


Boy Toy

by P_Artsypants



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Basically everyone has a place, F/M, Happy Ending, It is now!, Pinocchio AU, Slow Burn, Stoick's the Tsar, Toothless Is A Cat, Tragic Romance, i love it, is that a thing?, it takes place in a Russia-like country, this is so weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-11 16:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15319362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P_Artsypants/pseuds/P_Artsypants
Summary: At the age of 21, Princess Astrid lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is nowhere to be found, she requests the toymaker to create one for her. It's safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned. (Pinocchio!AU I guess?)





	1. Act I

**Author's Note:**

> Soo...I wrote this AU for a creative writing class (trying to stay in Character, but using different names) and I realized that I never posted in on here, because it's kind of odd, and I've been doing a lot of AUs lately. But I'm trying to reach 1,000,000 words published by the end of the year. So, here it is! Hope you all like!

“No! I won’t go! You can’t make me!” She screamed as she threw herself on the bed. The princess kicked her perfect dainty legs into the mattress. 

“It’s rude to skip out on a party,” her beloved servant, Tuff, stated. 

“Especially your birthday party,” his twin sister, Ruff, replied.

Astrid looked up from where she had her face buried in her pillow. “But there’s going to be so many people that I’m going to have to shake hands with. And you know Uncle is going to stuff me into a dress.” She hid her face again. “I’m not doing it!” 

The two servants looked at each other and sighed. “Why do we do this?” Tuff asked. “You whine and complain, and then you know your uncle is going to make you go anyway, even if he has to carry you in.” 

Astrid rolled over on her back. “I don’t like your attitude. I took you off the streets, and I’ll put you back on them.” 

Ruff smiled at the princess, looking in her closet for the right dress. “You can, but you won’t.” 

Tuff sat on the mattress casually. “Yeah, then who would you throw your axe at? One of the other servants?”

Astrid mumbled. “They always flinch and get hit…” 

“See? You’ll just have to tolerate us.” 

Astrid sneered. “Sometimes I really hate you two.” She was lying of course, but she needed to keep her servants in their place somehow.

The trio was sequestered in the East wing, what she had dubbed as her living quarters. Thick sheets covered the windows, broadswords and heavy axes hung on the walls. The furniture was in disarray as sometimes her anger would be too much for her and she would cleave a bedpost in two. Only her most trusted servants were allowed to enter, a pair of twins that she had personally hired from off the street with no training whatsoever. 

Ruff pulled out a pink taffeta dress with pink-feathered plumes sticking off the back. “Here’s the dress Dagur got you last year for your anniversary. You could wear this!” 

“I thought I told you to burn that abomination,” the princess hissed. 

Ruff laughed as she stuck the garment in the back of the closet. She and Tuff enjoyed teasing the princess like this. Despite how bratty her replies were, they knew that Astrid was truly happy when people interacted with her instead of just blindly following every order. 

She was just bad at showing it. 

Just then there was a knock at her bedroom door. Tuff opened it and greeted the nameless servant on the other side. 

“His Majesty would like to talk to the Princess in his study,” the shy girl spoke.   

“Here we go!” Astrid flung herself off the bed and snagged her favorite battle-axe from where it was lodged in the fine cherry wall. It was her security blanket, if only the twins knew it. 

She was perfect. She had to be. The whole world was watching her, pandering to her, and adoring her. Though that adoration ran dry when she turned away. In truth, she would sooner push someone down in the mud to keep her boots clean, than to offer a hand to help them up. She viewed the world over her nose, and demanded perfection. 

Astrid, the princess of Berk. 

A perfect bitch.

She stomped down the hall and threw the door open to her uncle’s study. “I have arrived, oh great Stoick! Here at your beck and call!”

Stoick, the Tsar of Berk, was a stark contrast to his ‘niece’. A huge man, built like a mountain, but had the soul of a lamb. He was a quiet man, but lived to serve the people. His crimson beard, rosy cheeks, and cauliflower nose only made him look kinder. No Tsar was perfect, but if the populace of Berk had been polled, his numbers were stellar. 

So how could such a kind and gentle man be related to Astrid? Well, Uncle wasn’t exactly a truth. When he had fostered her from her old kingdom, she had refused to call him ‘father’ like every councilman had asked. Stoick had suggested ‘Uncle’ instead, and she begrudgingly agreed. Even then, her past traumas had put a bleak disposition on the Princess the likes no one had seen before. Regardless, he loved her dearly, as he had no children of his own. 

A parentless child, and a heirless King. Naturally, things worked out.

The monarch looked up at his niece; her blonde hair disheveled, tattered clothes, and that blasted axe. 

“The party is in three hours. I expect you to be ready by then.”  

“Well, you should lower your expectations.” 

Oh how she vexed him. “Astrid, please, you’re turning 21. There’s going to be a lot of people here to see you.” 

She huffed, “I don’t want to see them.” 

“I know. I know.” Stoick stood from behind his desk and dwarfed the princess. “But tonight is very special. Tonight, you’ll be picking a husband.” 

Her axe fell to the ground with a clatter. “Excuse you! I will do no such thing!” 

“Yes, you will. I’ve told you this several times!” 

“When? I don’t remember!” 

“That’s because you never pay attention, child!” He accused. “Everyone in the line to the throne has to be married or engaged by their 21 st birthday.”

“I didn’t think that applied to me!” 

“I have no heirs, Astrid. Who did you think was going to take on the crown after me?” 

She crossed her arms. “I think we should just become a democracy.” 

Her uncle laughed and turned his back on her. “Those never work. You give people power and they vote in idiots.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t distract me from what I called you in here for.” 

She grunted and dropped in a chair. “I hate this. I hate everything about my life.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

“You don’t know how I feel.” 

Being the ruler of a country was hard. But being a father was exhausting, Stoick was often at a loss at how to handle Astrid. As she got older, she just seemed to grow farther and farther away. 

“You’re right my dear. Maybe I don’t. But I went through some difficulties when I married your aunt. A loveless marriage that ended before it even got started. God bless her soul. That’s not what I wanted for you. Which is why I mentioned it so many times before. I want you to find love. You deserve it.” 

The blonde relaxed her rigid stance. “I appreciate the sentiment, Uncle…but no one would ever love me.” 

“What about Dagur?” 

She snatched her axe up from the ground and pointed the blade at the monarch. “Say his name again, and you’ll wake up bald!” She shrieked. 

“I know, bad break up. Forget I said anything.” 

Astrid twirled her weapon and rested it against the chair side. 

“As for the dress…” 

Astrid groaned as she slumped in her chair, her chin resting on her chest. 

Stoick stepped over to the chestnut cabinet in the corner of the room. To any other person, it would look out of place and full of junk. But to the royals, the wood panels held magic. He pulled out a leather garment bag, and draped it over the desk. Astrid sat up in interest. 

“I was waiting to give you this until you got older and could fit in it.” 

The princess unzipped it herself. The dress inside was black with gold trim outlining the off the shoulder neckline. More gold flowers were embroidered into the bodice of the dress. Finally, the skirt melted from black to scarlet. The colors of Berk’s flag.

Astrid stared at the dress.

“It was your mother’s. I gave it to her as a gift when our kingdoms first united.”

“Yes. I’ll wear it.” And she re-zipped the bag. 

If there was something he could depend on from his niece, it was her fierce loyalty to her family. 

The few hours remaining before the party were quiet. Astrid had retreated to her room, and was no doubt sitting in quiet agony while Ruff did her hair. 

 

She stood rigidly, faking her smiles to all that graced her presence. Her arms were folded gently in front of her, occasionally squeezing tightly, as the men poured into the room. They all glanced at her with knowing looks, all thinking the same thing:

“ _ She’s going to pick me _ .”

The crown jewels sat on her milky collarbone, as there was no way to avoid that tradition. Along with the tiara and red sash, everything screamed untouchable royal. Despite the quaint smile and flirtatious eyes.

She really did make herself sick sometimes.

“My dear, why aren’t you mingling with the young gentlemen?” Stoick touched her shoulder, noticing not a word had come out of her bright red lips.

“Uncle…” Astrid spoke quietly, trying not to be heard, “because I don’t want to talk to the young gentlemen…if you could call them that…”

“Now Astrid, don’t be rude. I’m sure there’s a nice, handsome, quiet guy that you could take out on special occasions. Go on, be cordial.”

Rich, beautiful, eligible men as far as the eye could see. All she had to do was point, and the man that would inevitably serve her for the rest of her life would be chosen. And yet, as she danced around the room, he was not there. The man of her dreams, the man that didn’t fake smile around her, the man that could see through her act, the man that could love her for who she was; he didn’t exist. Astrid was no fool. She knew of her cruelty, she knew what was being said about her. 

And yet, how could she change if there was no one to love her? 

“Well, hello my darling,” A smooth voice spoke. Astrid’s foul mood plummeted into the floor. The man speaking was a tall man, beefy in build. His broad chin was dotted with the faint hairs of an attempted beard. His hair, copper, was parted in the middle, and curled around his ears. His deep forest green eyes, the same eyes she used to gaze into for hours, had not changed, but great amusement reflected back.

She didn’t even try to hide her distaste. She growled, “Dagur B. Zerker. For what God forbidden reason are you here? To steal my food?” 

He laughed. “No, not quite, you see. Your uncle invited me. He hoped that we would get back together.”

The princess blinked once and then shrieked across the ballroom. “UNCLE!!!” 

Most attendees jumped at the shout and scrambled to move out of the war zone.

The ruler had just gotten away from her, when she stomped back up to him and stuck her finger in his face. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” 

Stoick rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping you would reconsider courting him again.”

She shook her head. “I’m surprised at you uncle. I loved him, but he got Mala, one of my ladies in waiting, pregnant, and you think that’s a reason for another chance?”

Dagur snorted behind her. “She had a miscarriage, though.” 

Astrid riled up in anger, before turning around and decking him in the mouth. “You ass!” 

Startled gasps went up in the crowd as the gentry began whispering and staring.

Stoick grabbed his niece. “Enough! Behave yourself, woman!” 

“He started it! I’ll kill him! That son of a bitch!” 

Dagur, after he had been punched, made the wise decision to run out the room. 

“Now,” Stoick stated, “I need to do damage control. Can you handle socializing for a little while without starting another fight?”

Astrid looked away in shame, but nodded solemnly. 

“Good, I’ll be back in a bit.”

The crowd parted like the red sea, and Astrid was left alone. And for once in her spoiled life, she felt like she had nothing. She always had the best, the newest, the most expensive. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more and more. But in this moment, she realized it would never be enough. There was no happiness in material goods or false words. 

Then, from across the room, she spotted Gobber, the Toymaker. One of the best in the world. Every year, he took a request from Astrid for her ideal custom present. No other like it was to be made.

This was Astrid’s favorite part of her birthday every year. Not just because the present was quality and made exactly they way she wanted, but because Gobber took pride in his work, and he made sure Astrid knew it. One year, the girl asked for a racing car, one that she could drive inside the palace. Gobber came multiple times in the process of building to have Astrid sit in a chair and pretend she was the one driving. Gobber was the father she never had. She never confessed to anyone, but she was always excited to see the man.

The toymaker came to her and respectfully bowed. “Your highness, happiest of birthdays to you. Long live the Princess.” 

“Gobber,” She smiled pleasantly.

“I won’t beat around the bush, my dear, what do you wish me to make? I know you have it all thought out. Just like every year.” He smiled, his lead tooth glimmering in the light.

Truth be told, Astrid had forgotten to think about her present. She’d been so preoccupied with worrying about a groom…she chuckled to herself, and without thinking, blurted her personal joke out loud.

“Make me a husband.” 

The toymaker laughed, but then grew silent when he saw the Princess was not joking. 

“A-Are you sure?”

“Yes, Gobber, I am.” 

“…Anything particular you want me to consider? Looks?”

“Just make him perfect.”

She was the Princess, and she always got what she wanted.  This was no exception. Gobber took a shaky breath, “I’ll do my best, my lady…but--…” 

“Your best is all I ask,” She affirmed. “I wouldn’t want anything else.” 

The toymaker shrugged. “Okay. I guess I have no choice.”

“Take your time on this, I am not in a hurry to get married, but lawfully I must wed by the end of the year.”

“Three days, my lady. As tradition, you will have your gift in three days.”

“Lovely. I will see you in three days then.”

“Yes, Princess Astrid.” The toymaker bowed low and exited the ballroom. The rest of the room could only look in shock and horror at what had just happened. 

“I do believe this solves everything.” The Princess smirked.

Out of nowhere, the two twin servants burst into delighted laughter. They approached from both sides. “That was priceless!”

“What a joke!”

“Did you see how everyone reacted?”

“Excellent!” 

Astrid glanced between the two. “I’m serious, you know.” She raised an eyebrow. 

The laughter waned. “Wait, really? You’re going to marry…a toy?”

“Most likely. But I haven’t any stretch of the imagination what he’s planning on doing. If it turns out much different then I expect, then I will make the toy another servant…or maybe a moving target, if I’m so inclined.”

The siblings shared a worried look. It was a well-known fact that the Princess morbidly stunk at human interaction, but to go as far as to marry a machine? That was an act of desperation. “If you say so.” Ruff shrugged.  


	2. Act II

With each passing day, Astrid became more and more distressed about her husband to be. As she spent much time alone, she also spent much time thinking. Should she have been more detailed? Or maybe she should go over to the workshop and watch? Would he be what she really wanted? Was this a good idea? Would she regret it later? And most importantly…

Would she finally be happy?

Astrid would have loved to go to leave her thoughts on someone else, but there was no one she trusted enough to look inside her head. Not even Tuff or Ruff, the only people she could call friends. The princess often paced in the library, which windows faced the front entry, so she could watch for the toymaker. 

Day three had arrived, and sometime in the evening, Gobber and his assistant, Fishlegs, came to the front gates with a very large box in tow. The Princess watched eagerly as the duo struggled with the box up the stairwell. She flounced from the library and headed to the main lobby. 

Gobber looked relieved. “Oh, thank goodness, I thought you would make us walk up all those stairs.”

“Think of this as a special occasion. Now come on, man.” 

“Here, your highness.” He handed the princess a crowbar. “If you would like to do the honors.”

The princess dug the crowbar into the corner of the crate, and all the sides fell open simultaneously. 

Astrid was struck speechless. The doll was not very tall, only a few inches above her, and it was not robust in any sense of the word. It was thin, too thin, and it showed in the face. His crimson hair was parted on the side in an effort to hide the patches. His nose and ears were too big, his skin too pale, his face too child-like. And yet, there was a refreshing air to him. The princess’ crest decorated his front, like a sign of possession.    

Gobber dabbed the sweat away from his brow. “Well, My Lady?”

The princess waltzed around him, giving him a once over, and then doing it again. She was quiet. 

It looked like any other boy, but the large silver key in his back stuck out like a beacon. “He’s like any other wind up doll. Just give his a good few cranks, and he’ll start right up.” 

“Is he smart? Can he sing, entertain?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself, your highness?” The toymaker gestured to the key. 

“Alright, I will!” For once in her life, Astrid became nervous in front of a boy. She grasped the key carefully. “How many times do I turn it?”

“Just once or twice for now.”

As she was nervous, the princess turned the key only once. Instantly, the boy came to life. His bright green eyes flickered open and he smiled as he locked his gaze with Astrid. He threw his arms around her, “It is very nice to meet you, your majesty. I am yours.”

Astrid inevitably blushed. “How did you know who I was?” 

“My father told me, he said that the next time I woke up, I would meet the princess, to whom I was a present for.”

“Father?” She asked Gobber.

“I made him after all.”

“Ah, I see.” She then addressed the doll. “Do you have a name?”

He pulled away from her, “I do not. Will you name me?”

Astrid blinked. “Uh…I suppose I should.” She looked him over again. Because of his appearance, she dubbed him, “Hiccup.” 

Gobber furrowed his brow. “Are you sure?”

“This is my present. I will do as I want.” 

“Yes, my Lady.”

Astrid turned back to the doll, “Can you entertain? Sing? Dance?”

He folded his hands in front of him, then began to sing. It was in tune, and simple. A little child’s tune that anyone would know. Astrid smiled at least, it was refreshing to not have someone trying to impress with trills and arpeggios. And then he started dancing. It was basically just a sway, as he held his hand out to her. 

She took it with a little curtsy and draped her other hand on his shoulder. They waltzed simply around the room. No flourish, no choreography, just travelling in circles. He stepped on her toes twice, but not hard enough to hurt. 

Finally they returned to Gobber and ended the dance with another curtsy and a bow. Though, Hiccup bowed with one hand out and ended up slapping Gobber in the face. 

He stopped and stared in horror. 

But the princess, on the other hand, laughed so uproariously, she fell on the ground and kicked her legs, very unladylike. 

Gobber and Fishlegs stood shaking. This is not going well. Even if the Princess was happy, what would Stoick say? This...thing would be in the limelight for years to come, and would make an embarrassment out of the whole kingdom at this rate.

Hiccup, on the other hand, felt differently. Seeing his princess laughing so hard, he could only assume she was pleased with him. He beamed proudly as he held his hand out to help her up.

“Is there anything else you wish to know, your majesty?” He asked.

Astrid cleared her throat of giggles. “One more thing,” then she spoke deadly serious. “Do you love me?”

Hiccup and the toymaker both looked in shock, obviously not expecting this question. “I…” he started, but before he could finish, he froze. His eyes shut and the key on his back came to a stop.

Astrid could only stare at him. 

“So, what do you think?”

“He’s…perfect.”

\---

Regardless of how much Astrid approved of her present...Stoick did not. The Tsar had come into the lobby after Hiccup was delivered, and Astrid presented the toy as her groom.

“No, you are not marrying that—that thing!” 

“Why ever not?”

“Because it’s not real! It has no feelings, and cannot think on it’s own!” He pointed to Hiccup, who was still frozen in sleep.  She cranked the key a few more times, watching his face as he blinked awake and smiled at her. 

“Actually, sire…” Gobber spoke quietly. “He is an adaptive learner. The more he experiences, the more he learns.”

“Regardless, I forbid this union.” He emphasised this with a sweep of his hands. 

Hiccup frowned, not liking this new man, or the words he was saying.

“But Uncle, the end of the year is coming soon.” 

“And if I have to, I will pick a new groom for you! One that’s not--…” He gestured wildly to Hiccup. 

“But I thought you wanted me to be happy?”

“I do, darling!”

“Hiccup will make me happy.” 

“But how do you  _ know _ ? He can’t feel anything!” 

“Then he can’t hate me, now can he?”  

The room fell silent.

Stoick sighed. “Fine, you know what, I’ll entertain your little fantasy. But when this all falls apart, then I’m allowed to pick your new groom.”

“Fair enough, but it can’t be Dagur.” She sneered. 

“I learned my lesson, no Zerker’s for my Princess.” 

Astrid smiled, “good. But, you’ll see. Everything will be fine. I’m sure Hiccup will be the best husband a girl could ask for.” She batted her eyelashes at the toy with a smile. 

“Oh I will!” He assured, almost a little too enthusiastically. 

Stoick sighed. “Why do I get myself into these situations?” The Tsar shook his head and left the room. 

Gobber stayed behind. “Are you sure about this?” 

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life.” She straightened the clothes that hung loosely on the toy. She’d have to get him measured and fitted.

“It seems to me that you are doing this just to spite Stoick.” 

She didn’t look at him. “I love my Uncle. Why would I do that?”

Hiccup surprised everyone by speaking. “If you love him, why did you talk back to him?” 

Astrid furrowed her brow and looked at the toy. “It’s awfully soon for you to be talking like that. Especially since you don’t understand anything.” 

Hiccup smiled at her, “you’re right!”

She crossed her arms, “but you might have a point, Gearhead. Maybe…I should try to be nicer to him.” 

Gobber just looked between the two, and felt like he had completed a great deed to mankind. The princess actually listened to the  _ toy _ . Maybe there was hope for her yet. 

Astrid clapped her hands, calling for the twins. They fell in the doorway, obviously having been listening on the other side. Tuff jumped to his feet. “Yes, your majesty!” 

“I need to you take Hiccup and start getting him fitted for his clothes. His suit is going to need to button in the back as well as in the front.” 

The toy walked over to the servant, still smiling. “Hello! I’m Hiccup! It’s nice to meet you!” 

The male twin was intrigued. “Hello…” He said carefully, grasping his hand. “The name’s Tuff.” 

“That’s a nice name…” Hiccup stated as he was led out of the room. 

Gobber started to collect the wooden box the doll came in, when Astrid turned to leave with Ruff. 

He shoved the box in Fishlegs’s hands. “Wait!” 

Astrid looked over her shoulder. 

“Please be careful with him, your majesty. He’s fragile…and he’s my greatest creation.” 

She smirked at him, but said nothing. 

—

Astrid, through no one’s fault, did not see much of Hiccup until her wedding day. Wedding planning was exhausting, and if the event was to fit her standards, she had to approve of all the details. Every morning, Astrid would wind up his key to keep him going for most of the day, and then she left him in the library. It seemed like a good idea, have him learn from books, and be easily found by anyone that needed him for wedding preparations. 

Stoick was one of the first to happen upon the toy. He sat on an ottoman, a large tome in his hands.  

“Ah, Hiccup…what are you doing?” 

“Reading,” the toy said simply. 

“You can read?” It wasn’t supposed to be an insult, but it sounded like one. 

“Yes…though, when I picked up the first book, I couldn’t…but as I stared at the pages…everything made sense.” Finally, the toy looked up to him. “Does that sound strange?”

“Yes, very,” Stoick assured. He eyed the cover. “That’s some hefty reading you’ve got…”

“I want to absorb as much knowledge and culture as I can before marrying Astrid. I want to help her, not be a burden.”

Stoick was surprised, to say the least. He pulled out a chair and sat next to the plaything. “You know, in all honesty, Astrid would love to teach you things. She’s always complaining about how bored she is.”

Hiccup studied the man’s face. “Why would she be bored in a place like this?”

The Tsar scratched the back of his head. “One would wonder…” 

\--

The night before the big event, Astrid retired to bed early. It would be a long day of faking socializing and slapping a smile on her face. But, it was a relief, since she’d be left alone after this. No more talk of weddings, and husbands...maybe heirs though. Hmm, that could be a problem. 

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Astrid?” Spoke Hiccup’s voice, quietly. 

“Oh, Hiccup. Come in.” 

He opened the door, and stood in the frame, looking a bit nervous. 

“I didn’t think you’d still be running.” She noted. 

“I asked Tuff to wind me up a little bit longer, I have to talk to you.” 

Astrid sat up on her bed and padded the mattress beside her. “Then let’s talk.”

He nodded and took his spot, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. The gesture was endearing. 

“Are you nervous?” She asked.

“Is that what emotion this is?” He asked, his voice shaking. “I wasn’t sure...but I started feeling it after I noticed that...I don’t know what kissing is.” 

Astrid tilted her head. “You don’t?”

“No...I was reading a book. One that had a wedding in it, and during the wedding, the couple kissed, and I wondered if we were going to do that during our wedding?” 

She nodded. “Well, yes. Traditionally, that is how the wedding ends. The couple shares a kiss to signify that they are husband and wife.” 

He rubbed his arm. “Oh, okay that’s what I assumed...but I still don’t know what a kiss  _ is _ .” 

“Well, it’s when two people...typically they like each other, they touch lips.” 

“Lips? That seems...unsanitary.” 

Astrid laughed. “It does, doesn’t it?” Then she blew air out her nose. “I guess it’s best if we did.”

“Did?”

“Kiss, right now.”

“ _ Now _ ?” He questioned, his eyes widening. 

“There will be a lot of people at the wedding, and I can’t have you making a fool of yourself in front of them. Of course, there’s the rehearsal tomorrow night, but...maybe it’s best if we do this now.”

Hiccup shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. So, what must I do?” 

Astrid stood, and pulled him to his feet. “Well, we’ll be standing at the altar like this, holding hands.” This she demonstrated. “At the very end of the ceremony, the minister will say, ‘you may kiss the bride.’ And then, we’ll lean in, closing our eyes…” 

She didn’t explain the rest with words. Instead, she cupped his soft cheek gently, and pressed her lips to his. 

Being that he was a machine, it was not surprising that his lips were cold and unmoving. He placed his hands on her waist, but did nothing else. 

She pulled away, and studied his face. “Well?”

“I liked it!” He confirmed with a smile.

“Well, we’ll have to do it a few more times, so get used to the idea.” 

“Okay!” 

Astrid grinned at his eagerness, but to honest...she hadn’t liked the kiss. There was nothing there. Just a cold, obedient toy. 

Though, she supposed that’s what she deserved. The cold and heartless princess paired with an unfeeling machine.  

“Goodnight, Astrid.” He said suddenly. 

“Oh, goodnight.” She replied. 

He simply walked over to a chair in the corner of the room, sat down, and closed his eyes. His key stopped turning a moment later. 

She waited a moment, stepped over, and knelt in front of him. Pressing her head to his chest, she listened. There was faint whirring and clicking sounds, gears grinding, humming. 

But no heartbeat.


	3. Act III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made an edit. I like Snotlout too much to be the bad boyfriend (again) so I switched him out for Dagur. I found a good place for Snotty though, don't worry. :)
> 
> There is a wedding in this chapter, and by extension, the wedding night. Things get a little awkward and there some nudity. But nothing quite M-rated.

Most girls would be excited on their wedding day, but for Astrid, it felt like every other ball. Three hours of hair and makeup, and her trying her best to smile and not hurl any blades at anyone.     

She wandered in the cloisters of the church, her dress gathered in her hands as she looked out to the snowy courtyard.  

“The ceremony will be starting any moment,” Ruff commented dutifully.

“Why does this feel so wrong?” Astrid asked.

The servant shrugged, putting her hands behind her back. “I could think of several reasons, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear any of them.”

Astrid glanced over, “you’re probably right about them too.” She dropped her skirts, defeat all over her face. “I’m crazy, aren’t I?”

“Do you want a truthful answer?” Asked Ruff, “because I’m not going to give it to you if you’re going to hit me.”

“I won’t hit you, I swear.”

“You have, without a doubt, gone off the deep-end.”

Astrid’s uncertainty didn’t sting so badly when she was able to give Ruffnut a resounding slap to the arm.

“You’re insane! And you’re a liar!”

Astrid shook her head. “Well, there’s nothing to do about it now. I made such a big deal about how ‘I wouldn’t regret it’ to Stoick...and now what?”

“Would you rather be marrying anyone else right now?”

“No, never. I...I guess this is the best option.”

“It’ll be fine.” Ruff assured. “And, he turns off. If you do regret it, just don’t wind him up again.”

“Yeah….yeah! Good point!” Astrid stood a little straighter, more resolute.

The two girls heard the organ beginning her march.

“Well, this is it.” The bride whispered, mostly to herself.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Ruff.”   

\---

The ceremony was a blur. She didn’t remember any details, but she knew she didn’t trip. Vows and rings were exchanged, and songs were sung.

What she did remember was the kiss. Hiccup’s eyes were bright and inviting, and he had beamed at her through the entire service. It was much like the kiss they had first shared, and the one at the rehearsal the night before. However, this one had...dare she say, more weight to it? It was the first official kiss between them as husband and wife. Despite the cold, Hiccup’s lips were soft and sweet, and the look he gave her after made her heart flutter.

 _This is nonsense,_ she told herself. _It’s a doll._

As bizarre as the whole ordeal went, Astrid continued to ride the buzz of adrenaline into the night. Every time she assumed she was dreaming, she’d look down at her hand and see her mother’s wedding ring. Hiccup wore her father’s matching band.

She sat at the head table, watching the servants rush around during her feast. Hiccup sat next to her, looking out over the people with bewilderment in his eyes.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” He asked.

“Who?”

“The guests!” He gestured, “with their pretty hair and dresses and coats…”

He was childish, she noted with a smirk. Such innocence would be a welcome reprieve. She only hummed to answer him, and looked out to the crowd as well.

Then she made eye contact with Dagur B. Zerker. He was smirking at her, like he knew something she didn’t. She refused to acknowledge him, and turned her face back to her groom.

The tinkling of glass got everyone’s attention as Dagur rose to his feet. He would not be ignored.

“My dear friends and family,” he began. Awkward tension oozed in the air. “I know, I’m not the only person surprised by this union. Am I right?”

There were a few chuckles.

“But in all seriousness, Astrid…my strange flower, I hope that this marriage is everything you could want. And I hope you thought this through, because I know how easily you get tired of things.”

Astrid clenched her fists, but remained quiet.

“And…Hiccup, was it? I’ll be praying for you. She’s a handful!”

The assembled crowd clapped carefully.

“That was nice,” Hiccup commented, not quite catching the backhandedness.

“Sure.” Astrid looked over to her uncle, who looked pale, and beckoned him over.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Why is he here?” Her voice was eerily calm.

“His father is the Chancellor, I couldn’t _not_ invite them.”

He had a point. She pursed her lips and nodded curtly.

“I’m going to get more cake!” Hiccup announced to his new family. He had finished a plate and two pieces of cake already, when she was still trying to figure out how he _ate_ in the first place. He happily crossed the dining hall, waving hello to strangers. She decidedly wouldn’t understand the mystery as to how her doll worked.

Astrid sipped her wine delicately as she watched Dagur get up and follow her husband. Her eyes never left him as he talked to the toy. She couldn’t hear them, but she could imagine what he was telling him. It made her sick. Hiccup nodded along with whatever Dagur was saying. She feared what that boy was filling Hiccup’s head with.

“Hiccup! _Darling!_ ” She called across the room, when it finally became too much for her, “would you come here, please?”

“Coming, my beloved _Milk Drinker_!” He called with adoration.

All conversation in the room stopped, and everything grew quiet except Dagur’s insistent giggling.

Astrid’s empty glass shattered as she dropped it on the floor. She stood up quickly, and rushed off to a side room.

Hiccup followed after, looking ashamed.

In the next room, Astrid was pacing, her teeth grinding. She wanted her axe.

“I said something wrong, didn’t I?” He asked, trying to be as small as possible.

She whirled on him. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know any better, but she was just so angry! “Where did you hear that name?”

“Dagur B. Zerker, the man that gave the toast.”

“I figured.” Her nostrils flared.

“Are you angry with me?”

The princess met his ashamed eyes, and sighed. “No. I’m angry at him…what did he say to you?”

“He said that a ‘Milk Drinker’ was a pet name and that I should call you that. I’m sorry.”

Her anger had begun to ebb, and she took his hand. “Look, don’t listen to Dagur. I—we used to be lovers. But then I found out he was only after my power, and he got one of my only friends pregnant, and did not treat her well. I should apologize for not warning you about him sooner.”

For the first time, Astrid witnessed her toy become angry. “I don’t like that he made a fool out of me.” He grimaced, “what does that name mean?”

She guided him over to the window and pointed to the mountain in the distance. On the peaks, little lights could be seen. “There’s a little village directly to the north of us called Bludvist, and we call the people Milk Drinkers. Bludvist used to be a small and harmless, considering it was made up of outcasts. It was like a dumping ground for our thieves and vagabonds...but Fragonard, the chief’s son, beheaded his father, Drago. He’s a maniac. It started with them stealing our livestock. That’s where the name ‘Milk Drinker’ came from...but some 15 years ago, they murdered some royals, and put themselves up as our greatest enemies. The whole village is violent and dangerous. They routinely come over and loot us or free our prisoners. The only reason we haven’t invaded them is because they have the advantage of the mountains. The only ‘safe’ trail up there is rigged with traps.”

“So…” Hiccup pondered, “To be called a Milk Drinker, is to be called a criminal, or a low life?”

“The lowest of the low.”

“Astrid, I am so so sorry.”

She gripped his hand. “You didn’t know, so I can’t be mad at you. Don’t worry.” She grinned at him. “In fact, we’re going to solve this Dagur problem right now.” She snapped her fingers and a guard approached them.

“Snotlout, reporting for duty, my Lady.”

“Hiccup, this is Snotlout, my personal guard. You can trust him with your life.”

Snotlout smiled at the comment.

Hiccup cleared his throat, “but if I may…I’d like to say something to that… _Milk Drinker_ , myself.” He walked briskly into the other room, being followed by Snotlout, and went up to Dagur. The guests looked over in interest. Hiccup crossed his arms and cleared his throat.

Dagur turned slightly, raising his brow.

“What you made me do was impolite and rude. I didn’t appreciate you taking advantage of my ignorance. Please apologize to my wife.”

Stoick watched the exchange from his seat, intrigued by the machine. He was full of surprises.

Dagur raised a brow. “Or what?”

It was then that Snotlout rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Apologize to the Princess, or leave the party.”

Dagur gulped back the rest of his drink and stood. “I choose to leave.”

After that disruption, the rest of the party went rather well.

—

As the party was coming to a close, Astrid let out a huge yawn, and did nothing to cover it up.

“Are you tired?” Hiccup asked.

Astrid nodded. “It’s been a long day.”

Snotlout was nearby, and spoke up, “I can escort you to your room now, if you would like.”

“I can go by myself.”

Snotlout cleared his throat. “Um, your highness, I don’t mean to be rude, but this is your _wedding_ night. A guard has to escort the royal couple to their suite.”

Astrid groaned. “Right, okay. Then let’s go.”

She and Hiccup stood, drawing the attention of the Harold. He spoke loud and clear, “Her Royal Highness Princess Astrid of Berk and her new husband, Duke Hiccup of Berk, will now retire to their room, to consummate their marriage.”

If she could die at that very moment, she would.

Hiccup didn’t know what exactly was happening, so he just waved merrily to the guests as he and Astrid made their exit. Astrid, on the other hand, was red in the face. Whether it was from embarrassment or anger, no one could tell.

Stoick was waiting for them in the hall.

“Uncle…” she began, with a whine.

“You made this bed, now lie in it.” He demanded.

Astrid said nothing, but turned up her chin.

“Make sure they consummate,” Stoick told Snotlout with hiss. “Or it’s on you.”

Snotlout merely saluted, grinning awkwardly.

As they continued down the hall, things were quiet, until Hiccup asked a very important question.

“What does ‘consummate’ mean?”

Astrid and Snotlout halted immediately, looking at him with wide eyes.

“It’s sex!” Snotlout nearly shouted, appalled.

“What’s sex?”

“Holy shit…” The guard put his hand to his face. “How does he not know what sex is?!”

This shouldn’t have been a surprise, since Hiccup didn’t know what kissing was. “Look,” Astrid began to Snotlout. “You’re going to stand outside the suite, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not watching that.”

“Good, then you can report to the Tsar what you _hear_. Okay?”

Snotlout sighed, “Astrid. Please don’t cost me my job.”

“I’m not saying anything. I’m just telling you to do your job.”

Snotlout held a look of doubt, but eventually agreed.

“Um,” Hiccup raised his hand. “I still don’t know what sex is?”

“It’s like kissing,” Astrid provided, tugging him along. “Except with the whole body. I’ll explain it more when we’re alone.”

Snotlout made a gagging sound in the background.

Finally, they reached Astrid’s chambers and Snotlout stood dutifully outside. Astrid closed the door, sighing all the while. “Get undressed,” she commanded her husband.

“Uh…you have to help me with my back…”

She managed to snicker. “You’ll have to help me as well.”

She undid his buttons, and he unzipped her dress. She kept her back to him as she shimmed out of her dress and undergarments. And in her discomfort, her mind wandered.

How ‘fleshed out’ had Gobber made this doll? She had never seen him without clothing, since the servants dressed him. Maybe he didn’t have certain _parts_. And if he did, he didn’t have a heart to pump blood to…well, help. But she had asked for a husband, so who knew what Gobber had created?

“Astrid? Are you alright?”

She swallowed, turning slightly. She was naked now, and felt shy in front of the machine. “I’m fine…”

“What’s that big spider-web thing on your back?”

“It’s a scar,” she said simply, hoping he would understand and drop the topic.

It seemed like he had other ideas. “What happened?”

She sighed, “I got burned. I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He said softly, shyly. “Are you going to face me?”

She would have to eventually, she supposed. But when she turned all the way around to look at him, she got an eyeful.

Yep, Gobber had thought of everything.

“Wow,” Hiccup said with a smile. “You’re beautiful!”

Her face reddened. “Thanks…” After the initial shock of seeing his manhood, Astrid became keenly aware of his figure. His clothes had done wonders to hide things, but now…she saw how incredibly skinny he was. She could see his ribcage very easily, if it indeed was a ribcage. Very thin creases, that almost looked like scars, traced the length of his limbs, and down his sternum. He was extremely pale, but had a dusting of freckles all over.

“Ah…do you like what you see?” He asked softly.

Astrid blinked, “Uh, yeah, I was just…your arms and legs have…” She absently gestured to the lines.

“Oh!” He seemed to take notice. “Huh, I didn’t know those were there.”

She cleared her throat. “Okay…so…sex.” She began, but stopped, feeling weird. She lawfully married this thing, so it wasn’t a big deal. Right? But by the gods, she just taught him how to kiss! Could there _be_ a steeper learning curve?! “So, it’s when a man takes his penis, and inserts it into a hole in the woman, called a vagina.”

“Can I see?”

She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, but instead, she sat on the bed and spread her legs. She couldn’t bare to look at him, not like this. This was too weird, too awkward.

She thought her first time would be…a little more romantic, to say the least. Even when she was in love with Dagur, they had never gotten this far, especially since there would have been scandal if something had happened.

“Okay, I get it.” Hiccup said.

Astrid quickly crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest. “From there, the man…moves around, until he is stimulated enough and he ejaculates in the woman. Then the sperm fertilizes the egg and bla bla bla nine months later a baby is born.”

“Oh, that that’s how that happens.” There was still some confusion on his face, but he wasn’t asking questions, probably to save her from embarrassment.

“This seems like something…sacred.” He finally said, honestly. “If it’s part of the wedding ceremony…”

“Well, it is, in a way. Lots of people believe that when you have sex, you become connected at the soul.”

“Do you?”

She laughed mirthlessly. “I don’t know, I’ve never tried it before.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never done this? Then should we be doing this? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do…”

“Yeah…I kind of know. Enough talks with the Twins and Snotlout, they’re all dirty birds.” She shook her head. “But we have to try, if Stoick finds out we didn’t consummate our marriage…he won’t treat it like it was official, and he’ll find me another husband.”

Hiccup frowned. He didn’t like that. Not one bit.

“Then where do we start?”

How did these things usually start? Alcohol, for sure. There was no way she was going to do anything with him sober. Luckily, she could see on the table in her room was a bottle of mead and two glasses. She stood and opened it, drinking straight from the bottle itself.

“Um…Astrid?”

“I need this,” she said quickly, before taking another gulp.

Hiccup took the bottle away from her. “If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to do this.”

She shook her head.

Gobber had been right, she was trying to spite Stoick, just like she always had. She played the part of a pretty princess in public, but she didn’t go through with anything without a lot of kicking and screaming. This was her decision to marry an artificial human. The least she could do was keep her word and finish this night. Or else what Dagur had said would be true too, she did get tired of things quickly. Was she already tired of her husband?

“Astrid…don’t cry…”

The princess wiped her face furiously. “I’m not crying!” She shouted. “I’m just…”

Hiccup’s hands were on her arms, his thumbs rubbing careful circles on her skin. “Hey, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to!”

“Yes! I do, Hiccup!” She spat, angrily. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but…I want to be a good princess.”

“I think you’re a great Princess.” He said, honestly.

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t know anything.”

He hummed. “You’re right.”

Astrid turned her back to him and walked over to the bed. “Well, let’s give it a whirl.”

When she glanced back at Hiccup, she noticed he had stopped moving. His eyes were closed, and his key had stopped turning.

For all intents and purposes, she was alone. Except Snotlout was still outside the door.

This…could work.

—

“Oh gods! Hiccup don’t stop! Don’t stop! Ohh!”

Snotlout wanted to bang his head against a wall. He got it. He got the picture. Normally, if he had stumbled upon this same situation with a different couple, he’d have his ear to the door. But this was just weird. It was Astrid after all, and Hiccup was a doll.

“I get it Astrid!” He shouted. “I’ll tell the Tsar you were a good Princess! I’m leaving now!”

“Ohh! Right there! Yes!”

Snotlout shuttered and walked away.

After hearing Snotlout march down the hall, Astrid ceased her lewd comments, and finished her glass of mead. Of course, nothing was actually happening in the room. She was in her night garments, and she had covered Hiccup as well, who was still off.

Once finished with her drink, she wrapped her arms around her husband and dragged him to bed. She laid him down beside her, tucking him in.

“Sweet dreams, gear-head.” She snickered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The insult 'Milk Drinker' comes from Skyrim. I'm not creative when it comes to insults.


	4. Act IV

A scorned figure made his way through the mountain pass. Anger and revenge stirred in his bones. How dare they? How dare _he_? The throne belonged to him and he would not have his future taken away! He had only heard of the castle in the ice from his father, the Chancellor. Osvald Zerker had been the only person from Berk who had been permitted in Bludvist by the Milk Drinkers themselves, but so far, his plans had been foiled.

Dagur would make his father proud. Change would come to Berk, long overdue change. Starting with the remaining royals.

The caverns on the west side of the path were just as his father had described, hidden in the ice. Dagur slipped inside the mouth and began his descent into the cave.

It was very dark, the only light coming from his own torch and a deep red far in the depths of the cavern. It was slippery, due to the ice, and he nearly fell several times. But when he finally arrived at the end, he was in awe.

The path spilled out into a large room split in half. One side had a platform that led to a staircase, the other was a pit that ended in magma. One misstep and his life was over. Dagur continued carefully toward the stairs, hugging the wall.

—

Astrid woke up with a throbbing headache. Sure, she had a few drinks, but not that much, right? Then she remembered the bottle on the table that was meant for a pair of lovers, and she had drank the whole thing.

Oops.

She rolled over, and took a look at her new husband. He had been there all night, frozen, cold, unmoving.

Astrid, in a moment of uncharacteristic tenderness, reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. It was soft like silk and fluffy. She noticed small bald patches, where more creases were hiding.

Then she studied his face. He had dark shadows around his eyes, that looked like he hadn’t slept in days. There were even perfect wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. So much attention to detail.

Finally, she sat up, regretting the action as her stomach lurched.

There was a knock at the door, “your highness?”

“What?” She replied, sharply.

“It’s noon, we were wondering if you and Hiccup wanted lunch.” This was Tuffnut’s voice.

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Come in.”

The twins entered, with dirty smiles on their faces.

“So…?” Began Ruff. “Sleeping pretty late, aren’t we?”

“Yep,” said Astrid, unbothered. “It was a long day yesterday.”

“Are you sure it isn’t because you and your _husband_ were having some…quality alone time?”

She snorted, “Oh of course, we were at it for _hours_.”

Tuff giggled. “Oh Astrid, I didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”

“I’m kidding Tuff, we didn’t do anything.”

“ **Oh…** ” The teens both bemoaned, deflating. 

Astrid stood, smoothing out her nightgown. “I suppose I should get Hiccup up, too.”

The twins went to their duties, picking outfits for the royal couple.

Astrid wound the key a dozen times, and Hiccup opened his eyes with a start.

“But for what it’s worth, I think—…” He paused when he realized he was laying down. Hiccup sat up and looked at Astrid. “What? I thought we were going to consummate?”

“We were, and then you shut off. I took care of it.”

He tilted his head. “You took care of it?”

Astrid patted his face patiently. “Yes, dear. Now, I’m going to bathe. I’m sure you can find a way to entertain yourself while I’m gone.”

“Oh, yes.” Hiccup stated, as she walked off, followed by Ruff.

“Let’s get you looking like a Prince,” Tuff said, approaching with a special made double button tunic, belt, and trousers.

Hiccup mostly dressed himself, despite the protests from the servant, but he did require help buttoning up his back. “I like getting dressed myself,” he stated resolutely.

“I understand, but…” Tuff frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Its my job to do stuff for you.”

“And I understand that,” Hiccup agreed. “But I meant, I like being awake while getting dressed. I don’t like waking up in different clothes then when I went to asleep in.”

Tuff looked at the doll with a brow raised. “I didn’t expect you to have an opinion either way.”

Hiccup was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Do you like waking up in a place or situation different from when you fell asleep?”

“Hell no!” Tuff laughed, “but that is a sign of some good mead, y’know?”

He didn’t, but he still smiled.

Ruffnut came from the bathroom, wiping her arms on her apron. “It was too good to have the morning off. ‘The water is too hot’ ‘No, now it’s too cold,’” She whined. “And I assumed this doll was supposed to make her less angry.”

“Well, give it time.” Tuff supposed. “Who knows if this toy is any different from the others.”

“Well, she asked specially for this one. And she always tends to respond better to gifts from Gobber than anyone else.” Ruff shrugged, studying Hiccup, and dusting some hair off his shoulder. “But gods above is it realistic.”

“Are you talking about me?” Hiccup asked.

“Yes,” Ruffnut supplied. “What are you made of? Wax?” She pinched his cheek.

“Ouch!” He cried out. “That hurt!”

Ruff scoffed. “No it didn’t. It couldn’t’ve.”

Hiccup rubbed his cheek. “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course, your metalness,” Tuff grinned.

“What do you guys think of Astrid?”

The twins looked at each other, and then away. “Well…”

“She’s…”

They were both quiet for far too long.

Then Ruff finally spoke. “You can’t say anything to her, got it?”

Hiccup nodded obediently.

“Okay…Astrid’s…difficult. Most of the time. She’s been pretty decent lately, with you around.”

“But I give her until the end of the honeymoon before she’s back in her funk,” Tuff posed.

“Honeymoon?” Hiccup asked.

“Its like a vacation, for the newlyweds,” Tuff explained. “but since you guys got married in November, there’s not much to do but stay inside.”

Ruff continued, “besides, she’s probably taking the opportunity to get out of council meetings and all those stupid brunches and dinners.”

Hiccup tilted his head, wondering.

“What, did you think that being a royal was just money and making people do stuff for you?”

He shrugged, “I didn’t really know what a Princess does. I’m sorry you have to explain stuff to me.”

Tuff put a brotherly arm around him. “Aw, you’ll get the hang of things soon.”

Ruff explained on, “Astrid and Stoick are the only royals left in the three neighboring kingdoms. They have a lot of nobles to keep happy if they want to keep power.”

“And do they? Want to keep power, that is?”

The twins shrugged. “Probably. It’s cleaner that way.”

“Where are the other royals? Why is Stoick running three kingdoms?”

“Dead,” Tuff answered simply. “Killed by Milk Drinkers. Stoick knows what he’s doing, so the rich and powerful are letting him do all the hard work, while they sit back, pull the strings, and bathe in money.”

Hiccup’s shoulders hunched. “Is that what happened to Astrid’s parents?”

“Yep. And Stoick’s wife and unborn son.”

Hiccup gasped, a coil tightening in his stomach, “That’s awful…”

“These are tough times, my good man.”

Ruff frowned at the doll. “And still, with all this chaos and the threat of Bludvist, the Princess marries a wind-up doll that can’t even help produce an heir.”

At that moment, Hiccup became aware of his place in this world. He felt small as Ruff glared at him and went off to clean the room.

“Hey,” Tuff began, seeing the look on his face. “Don’t think about all that stuff, okay? Just…concentrate on keeping Astrid happy…that’s what you were made for, right?”

“…what I was made for.” Hiccup said aloud, for the first time since he spoke, he actually sounded like a machine.

“That’s a good…um, toy? I guess?” Tuff patted his back. “Besides, Astrid’s not all bad. She’s actually a really good person.”

“Deep deep down,” Ruff added, speaking across the room. “Way deep down.”

“Astrid gave us a home and a job. Yeah, the work is boring and hard, but it’s a warm bed and three meals a day.”

Hiccup tilted his head at the servant. “What were you before?”

“Well, we were children of merchants. Not super wealthy, but we got by. Then…well, as a common sob story in the kingdom, mom and dad met the blades of Bludvist, and the next thing we knew…we were orphans.”

Finally, Ruff showed some softness. “If not for Astrid, we would have starved to death.”

Something about that sentence made shivers run down Hiccup’s back. He shook.

“You okay, Hic?” Tuff asked, noticing the movement.

“I think so…I must have had a misfire or something.”

“Well, maybe it’s best if you keep any malfunctions between you and Gobber, ah?”

Finally, Astrid strolled into the room, clad in a silk robe and toweling her hair dry. “Let’s go see about lunch, hmmm?”

—

Tsar Stoick was in his office, head on his hand. His hair was turning grayer by the moment. Since the wedding a week ago, he had received several unsavory letters regarding his Princess’ new ‘husband’.

If he could call it that.

Many were outraged. Mostly parents that were wondering why their ‘handsome boy’ wasn’t good enough for the Princess, and why she would resort to this mockery of the kingdom.

He asked himself the same question.

There was a knock on the door. “Your majesty, you have a visitor.”

“Send him in.”

Gobber Belch, the man responsible for his current problem, stepped in the door, looking very small.

They may have been lifelong friends, best of friends even, Gobber was still respectful to the Tsar. Well, at least when eyes were watching.

“You called for me, your majesty?”

Stoick dismissed the servant with a wave and beckoned Gobber to take a seat. He breathed patiently, and rested his head on his folded hands, elbows on his desk. “Why did you do that?”

“What?”

“Why did you indulge her weird request?”

“I’m supposed to indulge her. As royal toymaker, that’s the job you gave me.”

Stoick huffed. “Only for so long! The girl is 21! What adult needs toys!?”

“With all due respect, I enjoy making presents for Astrid. And I think she’d be disappointed if she didn’t get something from me.”

“She’s disappointed with everything. The way her hair is styled, what’s on the menu, hell, I bet she gets mad about the color of the sky!”

“And so what was I supposed to do? Say ‘no’?”

“Yes!”

“No offense Stoick, but you’re dumber then you think if you think that would work.”

“Well, then…why did you have to make him look so _real_! I swear, I can see him breathing!”

“You should be thanking me. Imagine the ridicule you’d get if she was standing up on that altar with the steadfast tin soldier.”

“I’m already being ridiculed!” Stoick emphasized this by shaking a handful of letters. “At least if it had been a tin toy, she would have gotten over it quickly!”

“Well, knowing Astrid…this might not last very long either.”

“That’s what everyone else is thinking, but not me!” He stood. “Come with me, see for yourself.” He and Gobber travelled to the library, to a window that looked over the snowy courtyard. Meandering through the dead plants and ice, were the royal couple.

“Look at her,” Stoick sighed. “She’s talking to him, like he’s a real person.” He shook his head, resting his arm on the glass. “With everything that’s going on in the country…my only hope and heir is insane.”

“Can you blame her?” Gobber asked. “After everything?”

Stoick said nothing, only stared out the window and scowled.

“Hiccup wasn’t an escape from fate, Stoick.” He pushed the window open, so the conversation could float up to them. “It was a cry for help.”

“I gave her everything.” Stoick bit, “I gave her every need, I loved her…so why this?”

“Yes Stoick, you did love her. But you are only one person. She’s starving for attention.”

“She’s got a hoard of servants willing to do anything she asks! How is she starving?!”

“Listen,” Gobber beckoned.

The Tsar quieted himself as he listened to the couple talking down below.

“It’s a ball,” Astrid was saying. “You just form it in your hands.”

“It’s cold!”

She chuckled, “of course it’s cold! It’s snow! Now pat it into a ball, yes like that!”

“Now what?”

“Throw it!”

“Where?”

“Anywhere, just not at me!”

Hiccup seemed to notice the Tsar and Toymaker were watching from the window, and chucked it at them. It hit Stoick squarely in the face, since he was not expecting it.

“Hey! Watch it!” He shouted.

Gobber snickered. “Do you hear it?”

“What?”

“She’s laughing.”

Stoick’s anger died when he heard it. A cackle, almost evil, but full of life and joy filled the courtyard. Astrid was clinging to Hiccup as peals of laughter shook her.

How long had it been since he saw her that happy? Saw a real, true smile? 

“She did the same thing the first time she met him. He makes her happy Stoick. I know marrying the boy was insane, but she needs this. She needs a friend. Someone who can disregard her title and her past…and just love her.”

“And can that thing do that? It can it love?”

Gobber nodded, “More than anyone else in the world.” 

\--

Like most days in this drab and gray weather, when Astrid was needed elsewhere, Hiccup hid in the library. Most people knew that this was where he belonged, like an accessory. Apparently, there were two maids didn’t know about that detail.

“Have you seen the Princess’s toy yet?”

“Oh my heavens! I have! Isn’t he horrifying?”

Hiccup bristled. He got up from where he was cuddled in the corner, reading, and shuffled behind the bookcase they were dusting.

“I know!” The first girl laughed. “He looks like a corpse.”

“When I heard she asked for a husband, I imagined a strong handsome man, not…whatever he is.”

“I thought Gobber was supposed to be an artisan!”

The second maid was silent for a moment. “You don’t think…”

“What?”

“Oh! I shouldn’t say it!”

“Oh but you should!” She giggled.

She spoke in a hushed tone. “What if he’s anatomically correct?”

“Oh Mary! That’s so vile!” The other giggled.

“I know! But doesn’t it make you wonder?”

The two girls came around the corner and stopped when they saw the toy sitting on the ground. His eyes were round in betrayal and hurt.

One maid bowed her head. “I knew we shouldn’t be gossiping about people.” She bemoaned.

The other maid rested a hand on her waist and looked down to Hiccup in amusement. “Don’t worry, Mary. He’s not a person to begin with. He doesn’t have feelings.”

Mary looked at him suspiciously, and then shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. Can you imagine if he did though? That’s an affront upon nature.” 

Hiccup couldn’t find the words to protest. He just sat there, his chest tight, and eyes stinging.

The first maid walked up to him and touched his head. “Looking up close, he’s kind of cute. Still creepy though.”

“Ew, don’t touch it!”

“Pft, I’ve cleaned the Princess’s room enough times. I’m immune to whatever sex germs he’s carrying.” The two woman laughed as they left the room.

Hiccup closed the book and set it on the floor. Then he laid down next to it, a heaviness settling on him.

“Alright Hiccup, I’m done. All ready for our walk?” Astrid called.

He remained where he was, not able to move.

“Hiccup?”

“Down here.”

Astrid rounded his corner, and spotted him. “What are you doing down there? Did something break? Do I need to get Gobber?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m just…sad. I think.”

“Sad?” She sat down, curling her legs underneath her.

“Sad is when you feel real bad. Like you don’t want to do anything.”

Astrid spared a chuckled. “I know what sad is.” She rested a hand on his head. “ _Why_ are you sad?”

He didn’t really want to get those women in trouble. So instead, he peeked up at her. “Am I creepy?”

“No, not really.”

“Not really, so then a little?”

“I mean…you look and act just like a person, but you aren’t. It’s a little creepy.”

He nodded, and then curled in on himself a little more.

“But I like it.” She stated. “I like that you aren’t a normal person. It’s nice.”

Hiccup perked up considerably. “Really?”

“Yeah, normal people are stupid and mean, and spineless. But you…you’re ignorant, but not stupid.”

“I’m learning!” He assured.

“You are! You are!” She laughed. “Where did you get the idea that you were creepy?”

He shrank. “Um…I heard some maids talking.”

Astrid scoffed and almost laughed again. “Well no wonder! The maids are HUGE gossips! They talk bad about everyone!”

“So you’re not going to have them fired?”

“Do you want me too?”

“No! I was just…”

“They’re harmless. ‘Sticks and stones’ right?”

“What do sticks and stones have to do with anything?”

“It’s a phrase, ‘sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me’. You’re supposed to say it when people say mean things.”

Hiccup frowned. “But you say words that hurt people all the time.”

Astrid fell quiet, feeling her anger rise. But she took a calming breath instead. “I guess I’ll have to work on that, huh?”

“I’ll help you!” He grinned.

“Ah! You’re smiling! Not so sad anymore, huh Hiccup?”

“Nope!”

\---

Once their honeymoon was over, it was time for the parade. It was tradition for the newly wedded couple to ride in a topless carriage through town, greeting the townsfolk. With the rumors that had spread about the groom, there was undoubtedly going to be a large turnout.

Hiccup was just excited to see the town. If the palace was so resplendent, what did everything else look like? The view through the windows was only so much to go on.

“Hiccup, make sure you put your coat on, it’s frigid out there.” Astrid spoke, securing her frock over her skirts.

The toy wriggled in excitement as Tuff wrestled with his coat. “What’s it like out there?”

“Cold.”

He laughed, “No! The town! I bet the buildings are really big and beautiful, and the people wear really fancy clothes and tall hats and long dresses and—...”

“They only dress up for special occasions,” she supplied. “Like me, we have less fancy clothes for everyday. And the less important you are, the more boring your clothes are.”

“Oh…” He sighed, doing up the front buttons himself, while Tuff did the back.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high, the town isn’t anything special.”

She was right, of course. The grandiose idea he had was blown out of the water as he sat beside her.  There were some nice buildings. The closer to the palace they were, the better condition they were in. But as they travelled out into the square, Hiccup could see collapsed buildings, and others boarded up. Some burned, and some mismatched with repairs. There was a market, full of stalls built out of scraps. The townsfolk lined the streets; dressed in rags and whatever else they had to keep them warm. They all watched with wonder as the carriage passed, some knowing this was as close as they’d ever get to royalty.

“Uncle wants to do something for the town, but every time a shelter or housing sector is built, the damn Milk Drinkers come and destroy it.”  

That answered why there were so many dilapidated buildings everywhere.

“These are hard times. But we are the hope for the people.” She recited.

Hiccup looked out over the crowd, taking in solemn faces and tired eyes. He wanted to do something for them. Maybe it wasn’t his place, but he’d find something.

“Henry! Henry, my son! Look at me!” A woman had broken through the crowd and was running at the carriage. “I saw you die! You’re supposed to be dead!”

Two guards jumped into action and grabbed the woman, but she had already grabbed Hiccup’ attention. He rose out of his seat a little, and Astrid grabbed his arm. The carriage stopped.

“What is it?” 

He never took his eyes off the woman. She looked like she had once been very beautiful, but time and life had stolen away her youth. Grey streaked her hair, wrinkles spread like wings around her eyes, and she was nearly skin and bone. Her rags and collected filth only proved her poverty.

“You can’t be here!” She cried again, hysterical. “I buried you! You died in my arms!”

“Do I know you?” He asked, curious.

“Yes!” She cried harder. “I’m your mother! Don’t you remember me?” She strained against the guard’s grip. “Let me go! Let me see my son! I just want to hold my son!”

Hiccup gave the woman a solemn smile. “I’m sorry…I don’t have a mother…”

“No! No—!” She wailed. “You’re lying! I know you! Henry, please!”

Astrid pulled on his arm. “She’s crazy, just ignore her.”

He seemingly understood, and sat down. The carriage pitched forward, and they were on their way, but he could still hear her voice behind him.

“Henry! My Henry! My baby!”


	5. Act V

“ _Oh honey, you didn’t have to make this for me_.” The woman said. The vision was blurry, and it was hard to make out her form, but he remembered her voice. Just from what he heard during the parade. “ _You’re so good to me…_ ”

Just a moment later, Hiccup’s eyes fluttered open. He could hear the clicking at his back, his key in motion.

“Morning,” said Astrid, still in her night clothes.

“Astrid?”

“Yeah, who were you expecting?”

His brows were furrowed in thought, “I was just talking to someone else.”

Astrid looked at him in confusion. “I was the last person you talked to last night before you turned off. Wasn’t I? Who talked to you?”

Hiccup shook his head. “I…don’t know. It was fuzzy…”

Astrid came closer, studying his face. “Do you think…you were dreaming?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s when your brain comes up with images and thoughts while you’re asleep.”

“Maybe. I think…it might have been the woman from the parade a few weeks ago.”

Astrid frowned. “Is that still bothering you? I told you, she’s a nobody. She probably has you confused with someone.”

“I know, it was just…weird.”

“Do you want to talk to Gobber? See if he knows what’s going on?”

“No,” said the toy, sitting up. “Gobber said I’m an adaptive learner. So I must be learning how to dream.”

“Well, just keep me informed, would you? I don’t want you breaking on me.”

“To be honest,” said he, “I don’t want to break either.”

—

In the coming weeks, Stoick had begun to change his mind. Especially when it came to the toy’s emotions. He felt very real sadness and joy, anger and disgust, but he had yet to show any fear.

It was in one of these moments, that they were at the opera. Stoick had seen the show many times, but liked to go because he enjoyed the music. Astrid would occasionally go with him, when she was bored enough. Now that she was married, she dragged Hiccup with her as well.

“That’s not her husband,” whispered the toy over to his bride. The woman on stage was embraced by another man then from earlier in the show.

“Right, she’s in an affair,” Astrid provided. “She’s involved with another man behind her husband’s back.”

Hiccup was appalled. “She can’t do that!”

“Well, she shouldn’t, no.” She admonished. “But she doesn’t love her husband.”

“Then, why did she marry him?”

“The audience isn’t supposed to know.  We just know that her husband worships her, but she doesn’t care for him.”

Hiccup rested his head on the railing of the box, watching the scene change. “What’s happening now?”

“The husband knows, and he’s sad that he has to go back and perform. You see, the story is tragic because in their comedy act, she cheats on him and he laughs it off. But she’s cheating on him in real life, so he’s going to have to laugh it off again.”

“That’s sad,” He stated, resolutely.

“Yes, it is,” She agreed.

The opera continued, the couple performing their comedy routine until the climax where the husband kills the wife instead of making a joke, marking the conclusion of the story.

“Why did he kill her?”

Astrid had wondered this several times before, but wasn’t sure of the answer. “Why do you think he killed his wife?”

The automation leaned on the railing again, staring at the curtain, replaying the story. “I think it’s because…he never actually loved her until the end, because if he loved her, he would have let her go to be happy. But instead, he treated her like a possession. And he didn’t want anyone else to have her.”

Astrid wouldn’t admit it, but she was overwhelmed with Hiccup’s humanity. Instead, she just shrugged, “could be.”

Stoick made no comment, but made note to talk to Gobber about how exactly he built Hiccup in the first place.

—

It was a gray, mid January day. Snow fell lightly, peacefully and Hiccup walked alone in the courtyard. Astrid was forced into her royal duties, and he still had time left on his clock to run.

So he wandered, trying to imagine what the gardens would look like in the spring, when all the flowers were blossoming and bursting with colors.

Distantly, he heard a noise. Soft, barely audible.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

Then he noticed movement on the ground. A black cat was curled up under a dead bush. He looked half frozen and practically starved.

“Oh, hello bud.” Hiccup spoke, crouching to it’s level. “You don’t look so good.”

The cat meowed, struggling to stand but trembling in every limb. It was noticeable that a back paw was missing, and had been replaced with a metal prosthetic.

Hiccup scooped him up, snuggling him into his jacket. “I’m sorry, I’m not very warm. But I’ll take you inside, alright?”

The cat meowed again, nuzzling under his chin.

Hiccup snuggled him back, kissing the top his head. There was something about the smell between his ears that was familiar. “I’ll take care of you,” assured the toy.

Inside, Hiccup sought out the twins. “Hey, can you guys help me with something?”

“Of course, your metalness,” said Tuff with a grin.

The cat popped his head outside Hiccup’s jacket.

“A cat?” Asked Ruff.

“And a mangy one at that…”

Hiccup scratched under the cat’s chin. “He’s a little crusty, but a warm bath and some food, and he’ll be good as new.”

And so for the rest of the afternoon, Hiccup cared for the cat. It had a scratch on it’s ear that looked infected, so Hiccup carefully drained it and rubbed a salve to sooth him. All the while, the cat sat patiently and waited. After a little haircut to get rid of the burrs, he brought a tub of hot water in and the cat instinctually sat in, allowing himself to be bathed.

But anytime one of the twins attempted to touch him, he hissed.

“Picky little thing, isn’t he?”

Hiccup scrubbed some soap along his body, forming thick white suds against the black fur. “I think he’s just scared. He was all alone out there.”

“Well, he had an owner at one time.” Tuff gestured at the fake leg that now sat off to the side. “Someone cared enough to make that leg.”

“All things considered,” added Ruff, “the owner might not be around anymore.”

The cat looked up at Hiccup with his green eyes, staring deep into him.

“Toothless.”

“What?”

“Toothless,” Hiccup confirmed, “That’s his name.”

Toothless in turn started purring, as if to agree.

“Why Toothless?” Asked Ruff, “He definitely has teeth.”

Hiccup shrugged, helping the cat out of the tub and into a big fluffy blanket. “I don’t know, it just feels right.” He frantically rubbed and fluffed the cat until he was a big black puff ball. Then, Toothless weaseled out of the blankets and into his lap. “Aw, he likes me.”

“Well, you have yourself a cat now,” determined Tuff. “I wonder what Astrid will think?”

“What will I think of what?” Spoke the princess from the door.

Both the twins winced as Hiccup craned his neck over. “Oh! Astrid, look what I found!”

Astrid came over and peered over his shoulder. “A cat?”

“Yeah, he was frozen out in the snow, so I brought him inside and warmed him up. Now he’s my buddy!”

Despite Hiccup’s enthusiasm, Astrid frowned as she crouched to look at the cat. “And you didn’t ask me first?”

Hiccup’s smile faded. “I…just thought…you wouldn’t mind?”

Astrid sighed. Hiccup didn’t have much to his name. He was a doll that came with a few accessories, like clothes. Everything else was hers. Her room, her bed, her palace, her books…even he belonged to her.

But for him to have something for himself…it bothered her.

She had had plenty of pets over the years, many of which died or ran off. Currently, there was her exotic bird, Stormfly, which stayed in the parlor, and her horse, of course.

Hiccup deflated, “if…it’s not okay, I’m sure we could find someone to take care of Toothless.”

“Toothless?”

He blushed, “That’s what I named him.”

“Well, if you named him…I guess I have no choice.” She huffed. “But he’s your responsibility!”

The smile that broke out on Hiccup’s face was infectious, and she felt herself grinning too. “You hear that bud? I get to keep you!”

—

The next few weeks were interesting. Toothless the Cat and Hiccup were inseparable. At dinner, he laid at his feet. At night when they slept, Toothless stretched along his backside. When they went on walks, Toothless trotted along in the snow, or sometimes leapt on Hiccup’s shoulders. The cat was even starting to warm up to Astrid, and allowed her to pet him.

One day, when Astrid was out with her Uncle, Hiccup was spending time in the library. Toothless was curled up on his lap as Hiccup petted him absently.

As Astrid was returning, she heard him talking to the feline, and stood back, listening.

“That probably sounds crazy to you, hmm? After all, I’m not supposed to have feelings in the first place. But I have, and they keep growing stronger and stronger.” The feline stretched, his claws getting caught on on Hiccup’s tunic. “You probably don’t have feelings like this. You just like to sleep and eat, right?”

Toothless put his paws on his front and stood to rub his face against his.

Hiccup sputtered, “ew! You’re drooling!”

Toothless merely curled up again, paying no mind to his owner.

Hiccup only chuckled and wiped his face. “You know…” he continued. “When I first was introduced to Astrid, she asked me if I loved her. And I supposed I did, because I was built to feel that way…but now, I don’t know what to think.”

Astrid should have left. This was a private conversation, one that she had no business in listening in on. But this was her husband, her toy that she owned. And he was about to say what she had been craving to hear her whole life.

“I wonder how different things would be if I was never told to love her, you know? Like, there’s this part of me that’s saying that no matter what, I just need to love her. It’s my duty, it’s what I was made for.”

Astrid held her breath, pressing her body to the wall.

“And there are aspects of her I really like, and she treats me well enough…but I don’t like the way she treats the servants or Stoick. It kind of scares me, honestly. Will there be a day when she starts to treat me like that?” He sighed heavily. “I get the feeling she’ll stop winding me up first.”

No, no, she didn’t want this! She had been trying!

“But really…” he continued. “What does my love mean to her, anyway? It feels real to me, but since I’m not real…Does she think it’s blind obedience? I guess…it would never be as fulfilling as earning love from a real, breathing, independent human.”

Astrid sunk down the wall and sat on the floor. She felt sick, horribly and truly sick. She liked Hiccup, she did. But romance and love? Who was she fooling? Herself?

“Tuff said that I was made to make her happy. And I guess that’s all I can do.”

She clenched her fist. She was so _stupid_.

Here she was, wasting her time with this…this _thing_. And not even it could love her. Duh, of course. She knew that going in. So what was she trying to prove to him? Why was she listening to his opinions and letting him change her mind?

“Why am I so fickle?” She whispered to herself. Astrid so desperately wanted to be loved properly, but she didn’t want all the pain that came along with it. So she’d came up with this insane idea of a fake lover. Now she was getting all of the pain, and none of the love.

This was ridiculous. He was getting out of line, out of his _place_.

So she stood, and walked off. She couldn’t face him. Not today. He’d be fine on his own. Now that he had his pet.

When the day came to an end, Astrid waltz into her room with a slam of the door. She had been silent and cold to him during dinner, despite his prodding. She changed into her nightclothes, ignoring Ruffnut’s protests from outside.

“Leave me alone!”

“But—“

“No! This time, drop it Ruff! I want to be alone!” Though she screamed it at the top of her lungs, she didn’t really mean it. She was lonely. But she’d never admit it to herself.

An hour later, the palace was quiet. She figured Hiccup had turned off in the library.

But then the door creaked open, and Astrid pretended to be asleep. She heard rustling around, before Hiccup’s side of the bed dipped.

A hand ran delicately through her hair, brushing it away from her face. Then she felt a soft kiss on her forehead.

Once he laid down, she scooted closer so she could lay beside him, and he slipped and arm around her and held her close.

For tonight, she’d take the fake love of a machine.


	6. Act VI

Two chapters in one day? Ooh look at me!

—

Hiccup came to learn of the ‘boredom’ that Astrid claimed. It came on foggy days, when there were no events on the calendar, and Stoick had barred himself in his office to get work done. Ruff and Tuff would suggest lots of activities that, to Hiccup, sounded like a lot of fun. But she would wave them off and claim, “Those are so boring! I don’t want to!”

Hiccup was just glad that she wasn’t using anyone for target practice.

She sat in the library, in the window seat. Her head was pressed against the glass as a book lay in her lap. She’d read it before, but she didn’t want to read a new one.

Hiccup sat on his ottoman, his legs crossed underneath him. Toothless was sprawled over his legs, content as could be. He watched her like a lost puppy. “What are you reading?”

“Book of Fairytales,” she supplied. She turned to a specific page and threw the open book at him. “Here’s my favorite story. Read it to me?”

“Ah, sure.” He cleared his throat. He read with clear diction, his words ringing with tonality. Hiccup brought the story to life, retelling the words like he had witnessed the events himself. Then suddenly he stopped and looked at his bride. “What’s magic?”

She had her head resting on the glass once again, her eyes shut in quiet contemplation, but she cracked open a lid when he asked. She inhaled deeply. “Magic is something people use in stories when they can’t explain something.” She provided.

“Like what kind of things?”

“Like things that don’t happen in nature.”

“…like a Princess marrying a machine?” He asked, carefully.

Astrid sat up, swinging her legs back onto the floor and stood. “No, my darling. That’s considered a miracle.” She snatched the book away from him and tossed it on the window seat. “I’m going to take a nap, entertain yourself.” Then she added with finality, “and don’t watch me sleep. You know I can’t sleep when you do.”

“But you’re so pretty!”

She flicked him in the forehead, even though she was smiling. “Stop it.” Then she left the room.

She had been acting odd like this for a while now. Stand offish, giving him the cold shoulder. He even suspected she wasn’t winding him up everyday.

Entertain himself? What was that supposed to mean? He was built for her, was he not? Wasn’t it his job to entertain _her_? Unless…he didn’t anymore.

He looked around the library. Maybe he could read some more? No, not now. There was a different sort of learning he wanted to do. He left the room as well, making his way to the main lobby. Toothless trotted along dutifully.

Ruff and Tuff sat in a corner, snickering to themselves as the sounds of rocks clicked on the floor.

“Great! Two threes! I win!” The sister cheered.

“What? No, two fours gets first first.”

“Yeah, but I already won third second, and second first. So with second second, that means I win. Pay up!”

“You drive a hard bargain, sister!” And he flipped a coin over to her.

Hiccup wandered over to them, his footsteps loud on the marble flooring. Tuff scooped up whatever was on the floor, and spun around quickly. “We weren’t doing anything! I mean, we were…we were working very hard.” Then the twins realized who was there and relaxed. “Oh hey. Are you lost?”

“No,” he stated. “What are you doing? Playing a game?”

“No! We’d never do anything so irresponsible as to—…” A die fell out of his sleeve. “Okay, yeah, we were playing a game.”

“What game?”

The two twins looked at each other, and then back at him. “We don’t know.”

Hiccup chuckled. “It’s alright, I won’t tell.”

Ruff smoothed out her apron. “Where’s Astrid?”

“She wanted to lay down, and told me to leave her alone.” He shrugged.

If Hiccup had been more familiar with facial expressions, he would have caught the worried glances the twins shared. “So…what are you doing?” Tuff asked.

“I thought I’d just wander around, learn the palace better.”

The male servant smiled. “Well, where do you want to go? You’ve got your state rooms, gallery rooms, lion rooms, and drawings rooms…” He listed off on his fingers.

“Or if you’re more into halls, we have the grand hall, banquet hall, the west hall—…”

“And of course you’ve seen the opera, library, and throne room.”

“And the chapel! You were there!”

Hiccup piped up among the duo’s tirade. “Would it be alright if I just scoped it out for myself? I’m sure there’s enough servants around here to point me in the right direction if I get lost.”

The twins smiled mischievously. “Certainly! But don’t blame us when you get lost!”

He smirked, “I won’t get lost. It’s not _that_ big of a place!”  

—

He spoke much too soon. It had been two hours, and he was in some nameless part of the palace, in the lower levels. Things had gone from gold and rose, to stone gray. It was damp down here, and if he listened, he could hear occasional shouts from the dungeons. The rooms were all full of old furniture and paintings of nameless people. White sheets covered most surfaces, keeping them clean of dust. Spiderwebs hung in corners.

“Where in the world are we, bud?”

The cat, now a little more gray from dust, simply looked up at him, and shook himself, sending up a cloud.

They came to a pair of double doors, and Hiccup tested the handle. It was unlocked, and the door swung open with a creak.

A creeping, cold feeling spread over him. Was this what fear felt like? It had too, for no other feeling could come from what laid before him.

The room was filled to the brim with toys. Old, new, broken it didn’t matter. They were all piled in. Tangled marionettes hung from the ceiling, while dolls gazed at him with desolate eyes. Wheel-less carriages and horses with tattered manes, metal animals with dents from being thrown around, and too many burned remnants. A childhood graveyard.

Hiccup took a few staggering steps back, as his breathing became ragged.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Astrid called from down the hall. “Hiccup?”

He tore his eyes away and looked at her. “What is this place?”

Astrid realized far too late what he was looking at. Shame filled her first, but she quickly stomped it out and replaced it with anger. “You have no business in this room.”

“Is…is this what’s going to happen to me?”

The princess said nothing as she came closer.

“Are you going to get bored with me too and leave me here to gather dust?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stuck her finger in his face with a sneer. “This is bigger than you, and I don’t need to explain it to you.” She pulled him away and shut the doors.

“I’m your _husband_.”

“You are a toy!” She shrieked. “And you seem to keep forgetting that!” She raised her hand.

Hiccup recoiled.

She refrained from violence, but ball her hand into a fist. “I had you made so that I wouldn’t have to marry someone else! Don’t you get it? You mean nothing to me! You’re just a convenience!”

Hiccup hunched his shoulders, feeling hurt down to his core.

“Well…when you do get tired of me…give me to someone that will actually appreciate me. There’s so many more deserving people in the town that have nothing.” He hugged himself. “It confuses me why you have all your old toys hoarded down here anyway. You could give them to the kids in the town—…”

“The Milk Drinkers would just take them. And they won’t take anything else from me,” she hissed.

“…Anything else?”

Astrid shook her head. “Forget it. Those toys are mine, and you are mine. I will do what I want with you!” There was so much anger and bitterness in her body as she trembled with sorrow. She was right, this was bigger than him, but that didn’t mean she could treat him like this.

“Astrid, please…you told me we were the hope of the people, don’t be like this. I’ve seen you, you act tough, but you can be very kind. Please, darling.”

He reached for her, but she swatted his hands away. “Don’t ‘darling’ me! You can’t feel! All the feelings you have are manufactured! It’s all lies!”

“No, Astrid…that’s not true. I do feel for you, I might even—…”

“Don’t you dare say it!” She shoved him back, hard. “Why did I do this? I was so stupid…stupid, stupid!” She pulled on her hair.

“Astrid, stop! You don’t need to be upset…”

“You! Leave me alone! I wish you had never been made!” Her shout was pained; tears came to her eyes but never fell. “All I wanted was to be loved…but I couldn’t…” She fell to sit on the ground. “I’m such a fool.”

“That’s not—…”

“Shut up.” She commanded. “Leave. Get out of the Palace. Go to Gobber’s, go anywhere, I don’t care. I just can’t look at you.”

The automaton bit his lip and stood. He wanted to protest, to declare she couldn’t boss him around. But he couldn’t, because she owned him. She was the princess, and he…he wasn’t even real in the first place. It was the same stupid argument over and over again. He wasn’t real, he couldn’t feel, he was merely a possession and nothing more. “Alright, My Lady. I’ll go.” He bowed slightly at the waist, and rushed out of the hall.

—

Hiccup ran. The frigid temperature making his body jerk as he moved.

He didn’t know where he was going; he just had to get away from her. His jacket uselessly became tangled around his wind-up key, and he opted to just take it off.  The stares he got as he marched through Berk in the dead of winter were enough of a reminder of his unfeeling skin. He wasn’t like the rest of these people, and he was foolish to think he was one of them.

The palace seemed like a dream, meeting a beautiful princess, and marrying her. Making friends with the cheerful servants and having access to every bit of knowledge he wanted. Yet, for some reason, he knew he didn’t belong there. He was no royal, he knew. And he wasn’t like the other residents, yes. But there was something else. Like a second command in his build that forced him onto the streets.

Toothless, ever loyal and caring, ran just behind Hiccup, trying to over comfort in some way.

He wasn't sure how he got to the cathedral, but the rose window looked like a halo of sanctity in the night. He slipped through the gate and sought refuge in the cloisters.

In the yard laid the cemetery, a garden of statues, all angels and head stones. It was quiet and still as snow softly fell. Hiccup wandered the figures, basking in their silent protection. He sat beneath one, curling his legs up and leaning against the cool stone. In front of him was a dinky little grave, marked with a wooden cross.

He lacked a beating heart, lacked the human necessity for emotions, and yet he had felt them all. Her question that she had asked the day they met, when he was given to her by the toymaker, ran through his head. 

" _Do you love me?_ "

He was supposed to, he guessed. That was his purpose, to love her. But the calm that came over him when she spoke, the tingling sensation he got when he looked into her eyes. These weren’t things that couldn’t be written or taught. He liked watching her fall asleep, he admired her strength in her axe throws, and he delighted in her laugh.

The toy touched his cheek and felt wetness on his face. 

"Great, now I'm leaking." He sighed. He could just imagine his wife's face when she found out he was broken. He had been broken for a while. He knew because he was seeing people he didn’t know. When his key stopped turning, and his eyes fell shut, images would cross his mind where there was only supposed to be darkness. Dreams, that’s what they had called them, but they felt all to real, all too familiar.

Desperate, he turned his face heavenward, and prayed aloud.

“God, do I dare I call on you?” His breath didn’t create a vapor, for it had no warmth. “I am an abomination. I was not created from your hand, nor did you plan me. I have no soul, no heart, and when I die…will I see heaven? Or will I cease to exist?”

“ _I wish you were never made!_ ”

“What can I do now, my Lord? Shall I stay here, join the statues and glorify you in frozen eternity?”

He wasn’t cold, per say, but a certain numbness set into his body.

He loved her.

No matter what she called him…it was all endearing to him. Astrid was so strong and brave. Her wit was never ending, and her laugh, while rare, made him feel like he had a heart. In the little time he had been with her, he had seen change. The anger was dissolving, and she was opening herself up to him. Maybe, he had been too hasty in his retreat. She hadn’t changed completely, and she never would without him.

Yes, he’d go back. She would have calmed down by now; maybe she was even worried about him. That was wishful thinking. And so he stood, dusting the snow from his trousers.

Toothless meowed, looking up from the snow.

“I’m okay now, bud. Thanks.”

From the dark cloister emerged a figure.

Hiccup was startled, “who’s there?”

His face was tattooed with blue ink. The felon had an axe strapped to his back and a chained net over his shoulder, no doubt money on his mind. The man’s hoarse voice laughed, “why, if it isn’t the Princess’ toy husband. What they wouldn’t pay to have you back.”

Hiccup backed up. “Are you…a Milk Drinker?”

The man dislodged his axe. “That’s a naughty word, boy. Didn’t they teach you not to call people that?”

“Yes…it may have been mentioned.”

“Then you’ll also know that there’s no use running. Come quietly.”

Toothless, as ferocious as a housecoat could be, stood between them, and hissed protectively.

“Cute,” said the man, before harshly kicking him out of the way.

Toothless skidded in the snow and crashed against a statue, falling still.

“Toothless!” Hiccup shrieked, more tears coming to his eyes. Trembling in fear and anger, Hiccup raised his hands to fight.

The man chuckled, “fool.”

—

Astrid lay on her back, pillow clutched to her chest. “Am I crazy?”

Ruff sat next to her, working on some stitching. “No. Delusional? Yes. Temperamental? Definitely. But not crazy.”

“I thought I yelled at him because I didn’t like hearing that I was wrong. But the thing was, every time he proved me wrong, I—I kind of liked it.”

Ruff raised her eyebrow. “If it had been any other person…”

“I know!” Astrid shot up. She hugged the pillow tighter. “Every time he put me in my place, I didn’t get upset. He made sense, and reasoned with me…”

“So why did you tell him to leave?”

“Because—!” She stopped. She felt conflicted and sick. “I don’t know.”

“Sounds like you’re in love,” the servant observed.

“That’s just the thing! If I were...then wouldn’t it be wrong? He’s not a real person, and he can’t love me back.”

“Ah, now we’re getting to the root of the problem.” Ruff set down her project. “You’re afraid of getting hurt again, like with Dagur.”

The princess was quiet.

“I don’t think you’re crazy Astrid. If it wasn’t for that key in his back, I’d think he was a normal boy.”

There was a knock at the door. “It’s Tuff!” He called from the other side.

“Come in,” Astrid beckoned. “Did you find him?”

“He’s not at Gobber’s.” The servant blanched, “but some people saw him running towards the church. And I found this…” Tuff held up the coat the toy had been wearing when he left.

Astrid slipped off the bed and took the coat away. “Send out a search crew, we need to find him.”

By time they had assembled a group of servants in the main lobby, there was a scratching sound at the door. Tuff opened it, and watch with horror as a familiar black cat limped in, a trail of blood in his wake.

“Astrid…” Tuff spoke, to get her attention.

Toothless yowled, a sound full of pain and agony.

“Toothless?” The princess dropped to her knees as the feline curled up around her legs, breathing harshly.

“You don’t think…”

“It can’t be…” Servants were whispering as Astrid’s mind went blank.

“Bludvist…”

Astrid stood suddenly, Toothless cradled in her arm.

“Your majesty?”

“Get my axe…” She whispered.

“Don’t do anything rash,” Tuff warned.

“I said, get my axe,” she snarled.

Tuff left, and the other servants watched their princess, as her face twisted and grimaced.

“My uncle is a coward,” she said aloud, to no one in particular. Clear pain shone through her face as she cradled the poor feline. “Bludvist has been a plague on our country for too long, and I have had enough of it. I’m going to deal with Fragonard myself.” She cracked her knuckles. “I’m done hiding from my enemy.”

A few servants gasped at her statement, but she just whirled on them and pointed.

“You! Prepare my horse! And you! Go out and find as many able bodied men in the city that have a taste for Milk Drinker blood. The rest of you…keep my uncle busy. I won’t let that fool stop me from what I should have done years ago.”


	7. Act VII

Horse hooves stomped through the snow as the Princess’ army passed through the town. When the civilians saw the weapons in hand, men and women came running to join them, armed with whatever they could find.

Snotlout rode his horse beside the Princess. “What are we going to do? Just a search and rescue?”

Astrid grit her teeth. “No. We find Hiccup, and get him out. Then we can do some pest control.”

“If my lady will permit me, I’d love to bash in the Milk Drinker’s heads in as much as everyone gathered, but we don’t know what exactly awaits us up there…”

“Then what do you suppose we do? Just keep letting our families be murdered and our town plundered? If Stoick wishes to sit back and let this all happen, then he can. But one day I will be queen, and I will destroy the mountain if I have to.”

—

The mountain hike was devastating, as supplies and weapons were discarded in the snow. Few soldiers turned around and went back, not having the energy to finish. But the army had the will to fight and the need to destroy.

Astrid had never actually been within the village of Bludvist. She had always just seen the lights in the distance. But seeing the hives they lived in was a matter completely different. Hives they were indeed. Their houses were carved out of the walls of the mountain. Some doorways were ornate in design, while others looked like hornet nests. The doorways connected to each other with ladders and wooden bridges.

“Spread out! Find Hiccup and kill anyone that tries to stop you! Burn everything!” Cheers rang through the air as the attack began.

Astrid dismounted her horse and took to the shadows. She would spare her energy, knowing that Fragonard would not be an easy foe. Shouts of anger and screams of pain shot across the sky, waking the unsuspecting outcasts.

The middle of the night was always the best time for an attack. But there was always the problem of the dark. As the fighting mounted, torches were lit behind her. The light reflected off the ice and illuminated the mountain walls. Within that hazy light, Astrid made out a set of stone stairs that wrapped around the backside of the mountain.

She climbed them carefully, as they were crumbling. They took her to the backside of the mountain, where she found exactly what she was looking for. If Fragonard were the leader of these outlaws, he would choose a place fit for a king. A castle was carved out of the rock, but it was in ruins, the side completely broken open. A lantern hung by a door. She withdrew her axe, spinning it carefully in her hand.   

The inside was damp, water dripping from the high vaulted ceilings. Wrought iron chandelier nearly dripping with wax hung in the middle of the room and it was the only thing decent left in the building. Animal hides covered the walls and windows. Broken gargoyles sat in the corners. On her left, there was a staircase that ascended to nowhere, as a crack splintered them apart. A deep red glow came from inside.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned to attack.

Snotlout threw his arms up in defense. “My Lady!”

She hushed him, and continued to move through the room. “Why did you follow me?” She hissed.

“In case you forgot, it’s my job to guard you. I should have brought others with me as well.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can. But backup will be nice incase you are outnumbered.”

“Fine…but Fragonard is mine.” She moved to open a door carefully, finding the throne room. Torches were lit on their sconces. The windows on the far side were shattered and icy air blew in. “Go find Hiccup.”

“Yes, my lady.” Snotlout hesitated, but ultimately decided to heed his orders.

The moment she was left alone, she heard a greasy voice. “The princess of Berk. Aren’t you supposed to be dead? Like the rest of your family?”

“Come out and face me, you coward!”

Fragonard spoke from the shadows. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you came up here. You’ve flogged enough of my men. I know you hate me.”

“So are you going to admit it? Are you going to tell me you’re the one responsible for this nightmare I live in?”

He chuckled. “If you want to hear it…yes, I started the little bonfire.”

She raised her blade. “That’s all I needed to know.”

“You think killing me will make a difference? Bludvist is like a hydra. You cut off one head, and another takes it’s place. My father, Drago, was killed by some of your men, and now I lead. And after me, I have appointed those that will take control. We’re unstoppable, little girl.”

“I’m not doing this for Berk, I’m doing this for me. I will kill each and every Milk Drinker on my own if I have to! Now, enough talk of the past. Where is my husband?!”

He stood from the chair in the corner he had been sitting in. He had a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. A heavy iron mask hid his face as his armor clinked with each step. Somehow, seeing him like this made the hate in her heart burn even more, if that was even possible.

He spun Hiccup’s wind-up key around his finger, and stuck it in his belt. “A strange creature, that husband of yours. You call us immoral, and yet you have a monster like that walking around you. Hell, you even married it! You should be up here with us.”

With unyielding fury, she leapt. Her feet closed in as a shriek ripped from her throat. His eyes narrowed like arrows, piercing her with fear. Still, she would not waver. Their weapons met in a clash of metal, sparks flying and hands numb from the vibrations. She pulled back and struck again, and was parried by his sword. Her blade sliced against his own, scraping the metal and pushing her farther away. Fragonard swooped downward, releasing her before striking in an arch. Astrid had just enough time to block with the crest of the axe. Her hands trembled as she held him at bay, but he pressed hard against her block.

Astrid leaned in and shoved him back with her foot, before swiveling and landing a blow. He blocked it with his shield. There, the blade held firm and nestled into the wood.

"You're mine," He hissed, plunging his sword towards her.

“Not even close!” She hissed. She twirled her hands around the hilt of her axe and re-gripped it, then, with a speed he couldn't comprehend, she flipped backwards. The motion ripped the axe from it's hold and splintered his shield.

"You were saying?" She spit back.

Impressed, but nonetheless annoyed, he careened the edge of the shield toward her. Astrid repelled it with her arm, but still took on a hit.

"You're fighting much better then I expected from a princess," he brought his sword down for her to parry, "so tell me. How long have you been practicing?" He had said it so casually, like this was a friendly spar.

She snarled and heaved her blade. "I’ve dreamt of this fight for the last 13 years!" Their blades clashed again before he sought refuge behind his shield, her axe being buried once again

The fight moved on. Astrid disarmed Fragonard of his shield, not that it was of use to him anymore. Now it was just a battle of steel.

They circled each other, menacingly, waiting for an opening.

"I was going to make this quick and easy," snarked Fragonard. "But you fight pretty well, for a girl."

She didn't heed his backhanded compliment. Nor would she allow herself to be goaded into this fight. Her blade swooped low and slashed his shins.

Fragonard recoiled and hissed in pain. "That will be your only hit, girl!"

"I beg to differ!" And her axe collided with the side of his head, knocking against his helmet. It knocked him off balance so that she could attack again.

His helmet flew off his head with her third strike. He only had seconds throw up his sword to protect him from the next blow.

"You aren't worth the effort it takes to strike you down!" She hissed.

"That's enough!" He shouted back. He pushed back her weapon and charged, bashing his sword repeatedly against her hold. "I’ve had to fight for my power! My men fear me like a god! The real world will tear you apart, little girl! What makes you think this fight will change anything?"

"It'll change everything!" She kicked his stomach and he stumbled back. They both panted and came to a stand off. "I lost my home, my family, everything that I held important, and you are going to suffer as I have suffered!" She screamed, her voice breaking. Her feet pounded against the ground as her axe rose.

PANG!

Astrid knocked the sword out of his hands.

Terrified, Fragonard flung himself backwards to dodge her next attack. He scrambled and caught up his weapon. She bolted at him, but he threw his blade up at the right time and sliced her side. Astrid recoiled quickly, holding the wound, and that was the only opening the boy needed. He kicked off to the side and hit her in the knee.

The young woman hit the ground hard, the air knocking from her lungs. He recovered as she fell. The tip of his blade pierced her sternum, pinning her to the ground.

"Any last words?"

No…

She couldn't believe it. A stupid trip and it was all over. Her bloodied hand grasped at her side as she panted. This couldn't happen.

She balled her hands into fists and felt a rock by her palm. This fight was not over. She gripped the rock tightly, and swung her arm up, knocking him in the face. He dropped his sword. It was enough of a distraction to get away.

Astrid grabbed her axe and slid after Fragonard. It was a race for the discarded weapon. Fragonard reached it first, but was not able to get to his feet in time. Astrid's blade sunk into his wrist, severing his hand from his body. He screamed wildly in pain.

The blonde caught his neck in the crook of her axe, pinning him to the ground and silencing his cries.

He panted heavily, just like her, and burned his gaze into her eyes.

“So, are you going to finish it?”

Astrid’s nostrils were flared. Anger was nothing new to her, it burned in her veins like an old friend. But this was different, this was unbridled _wrath_.

“You fought well,” he stated. “But you’re still a princess, and you don’t have the will power to end me.”

Finally, she narrowed her eyes. Her gaze tore through him and burned his soul like fire. He choked.

"You deserve to die." She heaved her axe from the ground and lifted it high into the air. With a shriek, she brought it back down.

She just stood there. The moment was frozen in time. The air was stale and her axe fell listlessly from her hands. She needed to find Hiccup, but she was too focused on the blood that had splattered over her. Her eyes riveted to the red that pooled on the ground, and the body that would never move again.

She felt faint and feverish, whether or not that was from her wound, she had no idea.

She had killed a man. Regardless of his hateful heart and dirty hands, he was a human, and he was dead because of her. She had trained to fight, to kill. But nothing could have prepared her for the actual act. She stumbled a few steps back and vomited on the ground. Her head was spinning, her breaths ragged. Abandoning the body and her beloved axe, she stole the key from him and staggered out of the room.

She needed to focus. She needed to find Hiccup, she need to apologize and tell him that he was right. She needed…to tell him things.

“Snotlout!” She called out. She was feeling light headed from the blood loss.

“Astrid! Over here! I found him!” His voice echoed from a crack in the floor.

“How did you get there?”

“Go down the hall, there’s a hole in the floor and a ladder.”

She followed his instructions and came to the dungeon. At least that’s what she assumed it was, by the stench that hung in the air and the bones scattered about. Snotlout was in the back corner, picking a lock. Before she could rush over she heard a faint voice.

“Astrid? Is...is that you?”

Looking to the cell near her, she could see another prisoner leaning against the wall, chained.

“Yes?” She asked hesitantly.

“Please, please help me!” His voice was hoarse and his face was covered in blood and bruises. His bright read hair had been shaved. It took her a moment, but her eyes widened in recognition.

“Dagur? How—why—?”

“I’m sorry,” he began, “this is all my fault.”

“You...you did this? You told them?!”

“I’m sorry! I just thought—!”

“No.” Astrid’s nostrils flared. “Despite Hiccup’s appearance, he’s still a prince. And by confiding with Bludvist about him, you’ve committed treason. And the punishment is execution.”

“You’re not serious...”

Astrid simply turned her back and hurried to the other end of the room.

“Astrid! Astrid!! Please!” He called in vain.

But she didn’t give him another thought.

Snotlout was still working on the rusty lock, and she saw the huddled mass on the ground.

“Hiccup?” She called through the bars.

There was no response. The door sprang open with a clang and Astrid hurried inside.

Hiccup had been stripped of all his clothes. He lay on his back, his eyes open and lifeless. His left leg had been completely ripped off, and the bottom had been burned. Large cuts spanned the length of his chest and limbs, like the creases had been pried open, and from out of them came a red liquid that Astrid could have sworn was blood.

But that wasn’t possible.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she cupped his cold face. “You were right about everything. As soon as I can, I’ll give up all my toys. I’ll go out and personally give them away.” Delicately, she kissed his forehead and hugged his head to her chest.

“Astrid, he can’t hear you right now. Let’s get you out of here.”

She smiled weakly, “you’re going to have to get someone else to help you get him out.” She held her side. “I think I need medical attention.”

Snotlout rested a hand on her arm. “It’s all over now Astrid, you can finally relax.”

As she heaved a sigh, she felt the red hot blinding rage leave. Like a bucket of water dumped on her and fizzled everything. Tears pooled in her eyes, as she looked down at Hiccup, and she could do nothing to stop them.

“I’m sorry…”


	8. Chapter 8

So many things had gone through Astrid’s head in the last few hours. She sat in Gobber’s shop as the royal healer stitched her side. She needed some serious medical attention, but she waved off the pain and insisted she was fine. She was still covered in blood and sweat from the fight.

Stoick had found out about her mission not long after it began, but was too slow to stop it. He was furious with her, but she hadn’t gone back to talk to him. He sent Tuff to come find her, bringing Toothless along. Snotlout waited in a corner, not able to find the words to say.

She had just betrayed her uncle. She had slaughtered a community of rogues. She rescued her husband and killed the man that had killed her family. She should have felt overwhelmed. But right now, in this singular moment, all she thought about was what was happening right in front of her.

Gobber had to pull open the skin of his toy to see what damage was done under the cuts. She expected gears and metal bits, but was greeted her was very real, very alive bone and muscle.

She just stared.

“Well, it doesn’t look like they hurt any of his vitals, but my work has been tampered with. It might take a while to fix.” The toymaker announced to both the Princess and his apprentice. Hiccup lay face down as Gobber prodded at the hole for his key. “I can see the wiring here. My solder job is completely cut out.”

“Are we going to have to replace it?”

“Probably…” Gobber stated, fishing a scalpel out of a toolbox. “I need you to stitch up the cuts they made.”

“What about the blood loss?”

“We’ll worry about that later.”

The healer finished Astrid’s suture. “There, all better. Please get some rest, your highness.”

She nodded silently, her eyes never leaving Hiccup’ lifeless eyes.

He left, the room becoming icily quiet. The toymakers worked on, despite her presence.

When she found her voice, all she could say was, “whose body is that?”

Gobber didn’t look at her. “Nobody important, your majesty.”

Fishlegs looked at his master, hurt, but didn’t say a word.

“I want his name. His real name.”

“The person he was is dead,” Gobber bit, actually raising his voice. “He’s Hiccup now, and that’s all that matters.”

Astrid pulled her legs up to her chest, careful of her stitching. “What happened to him?”

Fishlegs shrugged. “He starved. He and his mother were very poor. Anytime he got money or food, he’d give it to someone else. He killed himself for the good of others.”

“That doesn’t sound like a nobody,” Astrid admonished. “He sounds…selfless.” She looked down to the floor.

Gobber stopped working and looked at the princess. “Do you still want me to fix him?”

“More then anything…” she whispered. “But I want to do what’s right, not what I ‘want’.”

“I will fix him. But it will be up to you if you want to start him up.”

She nodded, “Alright…”

—

Astrid went back to the palace, leaving Gobber and Fishlegs to their work. She had other stuff she had to deal with, even if Hiccup occupied her thoughts.

Stoick was waiting at the top of the grand staircase for her when she entered the door. She glanced up at him, and then looked away. “I know you’re not proud of me. But what other choice did I have?”

“We could have got together. We could have negotiated.”

“I didn’t want to negotiate. Not with Fragonard.”

“You still believe he killed your parents?”

“No, I know he did. He admitted to it!”

Stoick descended the stairs. “And what did you do about it? Are there going to be repercussions?”

“I killed Fragonard, and the men left the mountain decimated.”

The Tsar put his hands behind his back and reached the bottom of the stairs. Outside, the dawn had not yet broken, and the fires on the mountain still shone brightly.

“I found Dagur up there.” She added, noticing his quiet trance. “He admitted to telling Bludvist about Hiccup.”

“Where is he now?”

Astrid shrugged. “I may have left him up in the dungeon…”

“We have to get him.”

She groaned. “He’s a traitor! He deserves to rot up there!”

He held a hand up to silence her. “I will take care of this.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “You have done well, my dear. You did what I could not. I tried to do it the peaceful way, but for men that don’t understand peace…well, I guess this was the only choice we had.”

“I’ll take full responsibility for my actions.” Astrid bowed her head.

The Tsar chuckled. “Prepare for the town to reward you with gifts.”

Astrid smiled softly.

“Where’s your husband, child?”

She looked away, hugging herself. “He’s with Gobber, he was…hurt.”

“ _Hurt?_ ”

“Yes Stoick.”

“What do you mean? Did they break him?”

“Yeah…and they…cut him and he was bleeding…”

The Tsar’s eyes widened. “Astrid, are you saying he’s alive?”

“He was. He used to be. But he’s…I don’t know anymore. Gobber said the man he used to be is dead...”

The man was silent. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“I don’t think so. I think the healer might know, he was fixing me up while Gobber looked him over. And of course Tuffnut and Snotlout were there, but I don’t think they’d say anything.”

“I see.” Stoick scratched his chin. “Well, let’s just keep this knowledge to ourselves, okay?”

“Alright Stoick…”

“That’s my princess,” he smiled and kissed her forehead. “Are you doing okay? That’s quite the revelation.”

“I’ll be fine.” Though she said it, the smile she offered was pitiful.

—

A week had passed, and Hiccup was still in the shop. Astrid went down daily to check on him and every day, Gobber was becoming more and more frustrated. Today, Astrid had appeared and the room was in ruins. Hiccup had multiple tools surrounding him, sitting on the table, and tubes hooked up to his arms and various machines. Toothless sat on the table as well, right between his legs. Well, one human leg, and one fabricated from metal. It was cleverly crafted, a hooked loop, most likely capable of wearing a boot without anyone noticing. Fishlegs sat in a chair in the corner, his head in his hands. Gobber had both hands on the table by his masterpiece, his arms stained red and his hair disheveled.

“Gobber?” She asked carefully, standing in the doorway.

“Oh, your majesty, I didn’t see you there.” He combed a hand through his hair. “I’m afraid you’ve come at a bad time.”

Automatically, she began to panic. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Gobber pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid…You see, he’ll run alright…for a while at least…”

“But?”

“One day, he’ll just stop. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”

She furrowed her brow. “You make it sound like he’s an engine. But he’s not, he’s—“

“He’s still a machine, Astrid. No matter what you saw. His body depends on gears and wires now.”

“So, what I am going to do?”

“Well, you really only have two options. Wake him up and enjoy him while he lasts, or let him rest in peace.”

She grimaced. “How much time does he have left?”

“It’s hard to tell. With care, maybe a year or so. Maybe more if we’re lucky.”

The princess rested her arms on the table, lost in thought. A year wouldn’t nearly be long enough. She needed a lifetime. She spotted a bucket of clean water and a rag, and carefully cleaned the dry blood that persisted on Hiccup’s skin.

His real, human skin.

“I can’t just leave him. After what happened…I don’t think he could be resting in peace.”

Gobber handed over the wind up key. “Then here.”

She hesitated. On one hand, she needed to rectify all the horrible things she said, but on the other…did she have the right to treat a human being like a doll? Things would be different this time, of that she was sure. And with that resolve, she turned the key.

His eyes opened slowly as the key ticked away. But he suddenly jolted upright, coiling himself into a ball. “Stop! Please!”

“Darling, it’s just us…” Astrid soothed.

He met her eyes and began to relax. “Astrid…you came for me.”

“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to let Fragonard steal you from me.”

“Where is he now? Will he come back?” There was sheer panic on his face. Whatever Frag had done to him, she hoped he was receiving it tenfold in hell.

She cupped his cheek delicately. “No, he won’t be returning anytime soon. Just relax.”

He saw right through her. Her arrogance and anger were gone like a vapor in the wind. A peace sat on her soul that was unexplained.

A knock came from the door before Tuff entered. “Your majesty? The Tsar sent a carriage over, in case you were bringing Hiccup home with you this time.” 

“Thank you Tuffnut, will you go tell the driver I’d like to go to Hofferson Hall before returning?”

“Uh, yes…my lady.” He bowed curtly and exited.

Gobber inserted his thumbs into his suspenders. “Hofferson Hall? What brought this on all of a sudden?” 

Astrid addressed Hiccup instead of answering the question. “There’s something I should have shown you a long time ago. Come.”

—

They had been riding for about an hour now, traveling East. The town had ended, and now there was nothing but flat rolling plains covered in snow. Hiccup studied the land as they travelled, watching as a lake came into view, flat and covered in ice. Still, there seemed to be no town in sight, just a few farms and windmills here and there.

Then finally, Hiccup made out a snowy mound in the middle of the lake, an iron fence surrounding it.

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing.

“Hofferson Hall,” she said simply. “My childhood home.”

There was a long bridge that led out to an islet, and once they got up closer, Hiccup saw the mound for what it truly was. The remains of a house.

“Father was the Lord of Hopeless, the village to the East of Berk. There’s not much left it now, though.” She pushed open the door once they stopped, and stood knee deep in snow.

Hiccup followed, wavering on his new leg. She was there to support him, letting him rest his arm around her.

The hall was broken. The roof nonexistent. What stone walls weren’t covered in snow were black, burned to the core. Astrid led him wordlessly up the stairs, and through the empty doorframe.

Furniture, burnt and moldy, still sat in the rooms, undisturbed. Paintings, smeared and faded with sun hung on the cracking and curling wallpapered walls. Hiccup remembered the burnt toys he saw in the toy room back at the palace, and now understood why they were like that.

“What happened?” He finally asked, as she led him all the way down a hall.

She didn’t answer, only shoved a charred door out of the way.

“This was my room.” She stated with a flourish.

No child had any business being in that squalor.

Astrid went to the corner of the room, and lifted the charred floorboards, revealing a room down below. Carefully, she lowered herself down, and beckoned him to follow.

The drop was a little steep. It would take a full grown adult a few minutes to crawl out, and would be impossible for a child.

They were in a wine cellar, at least a corner of one. A heavy barrel blocked access to the rest of the room. The only other point of interest was a tiny window and a ledge.

“This is where I hid, that day.” Astrid began. “Bludvist came late at night, while everyone was asleep. I was awakened by screaming, as they charged the house. I only had minutes to act, and I crawled down here to hide.”

Hiccup watched as his wife wilted, years of sorrow landing on her shoulders.

“From here, I had a front row seat as I watched them torture and murder my mom, dad, and my nine siblings.”

“Astrid...”

“Then they set fire to the house. Destroying everything and everyone inside. Except for me.” She sighed, this story obviously hurting to recall. “I didn’t come out unscathed though. You saw my back.”

Hiccup nodded, easily recounting the scar she had tucked away.

“I was trapped in this room for days, until Berk’s search team found me. Then...Stoick adopted me.”

“How old were you?”

“8.”

Hiccup frowned, scooting closer to her. “You were just a child…”

“Yeah.” She swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just…don’t like to remember things so bittersweet. No more games of hide and go seek in the drawing room. No more races to dinner down the stairs. My father no longer sitting in his study with his pipe, patting our heads as we bothered him. My mother no longer scolding me for squirming as she tried to pin a dress to me. My brothers no longer teasing me about liking the butcher’s son. My sister no longer comforting me after I saw the butcher’s son with another girl his own age. The swing in the front yard no longer carrying me through the wind, dancing with scents from mother’s garden. And I would no longer be lying on rug in the sitting room, tracing my fingers over the pattern, waiting for my family to come home.” She was quiet for a moment before adding, “Well, even if I’m not in that house, I would still be waiting for them to come home.”

Hiccup couldn’t say anything, but he reached over and held her. He was sure she’d shove him away, since she didn’t often allow for this kind of intimacy, but surprisingly, she held him back tightly.

“Stoick and I are your family now. I know that doesn’t mean much, coming from me…”

She sniffed and looked up to him. “No, it actually means a lot. Thank you.”

“So...what changed? Why tell me this all of a sudden?”

Her face fell, contorting in pain.

“If it’s because I was kidnapped, I’m sorry if I caused you worry—“

Astrid raised her hand, covering his mouth with her fingers. Then she took a deep breath. “I...know what you are. What you used to be.”

Hiccup looked small, glancing at his feet. “The Milk Drinkers called me an abomination. They said that Berk was the ones full of sickos if I was around.” A tear fell from his cheek and Astrid was quick to wipe it away.

“You’re going to pay attention to words of a bunch of murderers?”

He chuckled, “you’re right...”

“Hiccup, you are…you’re not just a toy. Before you belonged to me…you were a man. A real living human being.”

He didn’t respond much, besides his eyes growing wide and his mouth opening. Finally, he whispered out, “what?”

“That’s what Gobber said.”

“Then…what happened to me? How did I—? Who am I?” There was clear panic and confusion on his face.

Astrid simply took his hands, and held them warmly. “I was told you died, sacrificing yourself for others. And you were given a second chance.”

He still said nothing, just stood there, with a far off stare.

“And…I’m sorry Hiccup, but Gobber said…they messed something up, and you won’t last forever.”

He managed a smile, “well, no one lasts forever.” Then he noticed the look on her face, like she was hesitating. “But…?”

“He gives you a year.” She breathed.

The snow fell softly, nature covered in a blanket of silence, and in this little room, in the middle of no where, husband and wife came face to face with the God awful phrase ’til death do us part’.

“I died before,” Hiccup finally said, “I suppose I can do it again.”

Astrid hugged him, not saying a word.

He kissed the top of her head, and continued to hold her as both of their tears fell.


	9. Act IX

I have been reading each and every review that comes in, and I appreciate all of them! I also understand some of you are worried about the ending. And I promise, all of my stories have happy endings! (Because it makes the suffering worth it.)

—

With the collapse of Bludvist, its seemed like the whole Kingdom as they knew it did a complete 180. Daily, Stoick received letters asking for loans and building permits to finally fix some essential buildings. The hospital was on the top of the list. It had been knocked down, looted, and burned over and over again, but Stoick had been adamant that building had to survive, no matter what. So now, with the threat of constant destruction gone, an entire new hospital was being built.

Next on the list was the orphanage. For obvious reasons. Stoick was also offering, what was essentially, free money to those who needed it the most. Families were coming in groups, each collecting a sum and then pooling them together to make enough for a really nice housing unit. Once spring broke in a few weeks, the building could begin, and life would go on.

But that was not so for everyone. Almost immediately after the attack, three men came to Stoick, groveling. They spoke of a plot of assassination on the Tsar’s head, and begged forgiveness since they turned themselves in.

Since none of them knew any _helpful_ information on the matter, they were thrown into the dungeon, and security in the palace was doubled. There wasn’t much else to be done.

Meanwhile, Hiccup and Astrid continued their daily walks. Slowly this time, as Hiccup was still recovering from his grievous wounds, and he had a new leg to get used to. Toothless likewise was recovering, but the brave little thing was doing fine.

“Astrid, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

“When…before I was taken…I had this feeling.” Though he had decided to brooch the subject, he couldn’t quite find his words. “Were there days when you didn’t wind me up?”

Astrid glanced to the snow. “Yes,” she stated, softly. That was before she knew he was human, when she thought she could do what she wanted. “It was days when the calendar was just full of meetings and brunches…I knew I wouldn’t have any time to really interact with you…so I just left you off.”

He furrowed his brows as he studied her. “I don’t think you’re being honest with me.”

God, had he already learned to read her so well? That was a painful thought.

“You got me.” She admitted. “There were days I didn’t start you up…because…” She couldn’t say it. It was just to horrible, and just confirmed everyone’s hateful words about her.

“You started to grow tired of me?”

Her eyes slammed shut. So he figured her out? Well, it was fairly obvious. In the past months, he had proven his intelligence and had already come a long way from the naïve puppet he was at the beginning.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not.” She frowned hard, holding in painful thoughts. “You’re my husband…my best friend. And I treated you like dirt.”

“Astrid, you didn’t know…”

“I should have!” She shouted, disrupting the peaceful snowfall around them. “I spent the most time around you, so I should have seen it! I should have seen that you had a heart and feelings—“ She turned her head away from him, hiding her shame. “But I was so blinded that I missed it all.”

Warm hands encircled her shoulders. “But that was then, and you came for me. Now, you’ve opened up to me. I forgive you, Astrid.”

His words allowed her shoulders to relax and her head to roll forward. “I…I’m going to make this up to you, Hiccup. You’ve suffered your whole life, and now I want you to enjoy your time you have left.”

He smiled at her gently, and let his fingers dance across her cheek. “I don’t remember much of my old life. My purpose now is just to make you happy. So don’t worry about me, okay?”

Though she audibly agreed, on the inside, she had a much different plan.

—

The next morning, she awoke to see Hiccup still asleep next to her. His body was still, not breathing like a normal human, but pressing her head to his chest, she still heard the ticking of gears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. “But I need you to stay asleep today.”

She dressed on her own, before Ruff or Tuff even arrived. And when they did, she surprised them by opening the door before they could knock.

“Oh, you’re up early.” Ruff acknowledged.

“I have business to attend to today.”

“Like the brunch with Heather Zerker?”

She had forgotten about that. “I need to reschedule. Today I’m doing something for Hiccup.”

The twins stared in awe, and then scrambled to take care of the necessary preparations.

“Yes!” Cried Ruff, glancing at her list. “We’ll take care of everything! Don’t worry a bit!”

“And, one more thing...” she warned them. “Hiccup is powered off for the day, because what I’m doing is a secret. Leave it that way.”

The twins saluted.

“Good,” she stated, adjusting her cloak to cover part of her face. “Now fetch Snotlout. I’m going out.”

—

The first stop on her errand run was to Gobber’s.

The toy maker was busy at work, he and Fishlegs were repairing some of the more salvageable toys she had in the basement of the castle.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat.

“Your majesty!” Fishlegs nearly shouted, dropping a screwdriver.

“As you were,” she stated cooly.

“Well Princess,” greeted Gobber. “What can I do you for? Is Hiccup alright?” He noted the boy’s absence.

“My husband is doing well since the incident.” She provided. “But I’m here on a private matter, one that must remain secret from him.”

Fishlegs stopped his working and listened in interest.

“Oh?” Asked Gobber.

“I would like his name, his real name.”

Gobber sighed, “Are you sure about this? He doesn’t have any memories and he—“

“His name, Gobber.”

“…it’s Henry.”

The memory of the woman during the parade came to mind. She had also called him Henry.

“And his last name?”

“I don’t know.” Gobber shrugged. “When the lad was still a little thing, maybe around 8 or 9, he came and asked me to teach him how to make toys, because he couldn’t afford to buy them himself. So I took him in as an apprentice. He said he didn’t have a last name, and that he lived with his mother in the narrows.”

The narrows were a part of the town down by the docks. Where most of the buildings were abandoned warehouses, there were a handful of shacks, some being only a room with a whole family in it. Being so far from the market meant they were far from the Berk Guard. There was no protection from criminals, but there were rarely raids from Bludvist all the way down there.

“So he was your apprentice?” She asked, “for how long?”

“Up until he died, actually. Fishlegs joined us about two years ago, when we made that working catapult.”

Ah yes, she remembered that one. A great deal of fun.

“You met him a few times too, on birthdays and Christmas.”

Her eyes widened. “What? I did? I don’t remember…”

“He never introduced himself, but he was there when we delivered presents. He said he enjoyed seeing your reaction.”

A guilty knife stabbed her in the gut and made her weak in the knees.

“I met his mother on occasion, but she seemed like a very private person. Didn’t say much, and never stayed for very long. But she loved him immensely. He never knew his father.”

“When did he…you know…?”

Gobber sighed, sitting on his bench. He glanced to a room in the back corner, that was covered by a sheet. “I should have noticed sooner. He never ate the food I gave him, instead wrapping it up to take home to share with his mother. He was always skinny, skinny as a twig. But then one day, he fell in the snow and broke a few ribs. It wasn’t a bad fall, so I knew something was wrong. Turned out, he hadn’t eaten in weeks. His mother was ill, and he gave her every morsel he could scrape up. All the while, he was lying to her that he was eating his own portions. So we sat him down, and forced him to actually eat. But by then…it was too late. His mother came to me crying, and said that he went to bed feeling sick, and never woke up.”

Tears came to Astrid’s eyes, hating everything that was being said.

“We buried him, and then we came to your birthday ball.”

Her eyes widened. “Right after?”

“It was a good distraction.” Provided Fishlegs.

“When you said ’I want you to make me a husband’ my immediate thought was ‘we should bring Henry back.’”

“How?” She asked, “How on earth did you do it? In three days, no less?”

Gobber beckoned her and Snotlout into the back room. It was a workstation, and it looked like it hadn’t been disturbed in a long time. “Is this…?”

“His work room, yes. Henry was extremely smart and creative, despite having no education. He taught himself how to read, and did research on physics, aerodynamics, human and animal anatomy…everything that caught his interest.” Gobber picked up a journal that sat on the workbench. “It started innocent. He found a little black cat that was missing a leg, and nursed it back to health, creating a fake leg for him.”

“Toothless!” She exclaimed.

Gobber stared at her in surprise. “Yes, that was what he called him. How did you know that?”

She smiled, fondly. “He…Toothless was following him. Hiccup found him in the courtyard and took care of him. He dubbed him Toothless out of the blue, and the name stuck.”

Gobber smoothed his mustache. “It seems…some of his memories are coming back to him.”

Astrid nodded, but said nothing, urging him to continue.

“Not long after people noticed Toothless walking everywhere with him, a little old woman came to us. She had lost her cat to old age, but she wanted her companion with her for the time she had left. So Hiccup designed a…system of sorts. Something that worked like an artificial heart to keep the body running like it normally would. Only, it had to be powered by a hand crank. Therefore, the wind up key. When it worked, we kind of thought he was crazy, but he promised never to touch it again.”

“You mean he designed…that whole thing?”

“Yes, every detail and note is contained in this.” Gobber handed her the journal. “He didn’t create it with the intention to revive a human, and if I hadn’t been drinking, I probably wouldn’t have tried to do it either. It is rather…morbid and wrong.”

Astrid didn’t say anything, just held the journal in her hand.

“But, of anyone in Berk that deserved a second chance…I think he definitely earned it.”

Astrid wiped her eyes.

“Does that give you closure?”

She looked to him. “Does he have any other journals? Can I take them to him?”

Gobber frowned. “Are you sure? If he reads these…it could bring back old memories.”

“That’s what I want. I know he suffered, but he deserves to know the truth about who he was.”

Gobber sighed, knowing there was no arguing with the Princess. So he simply nodded and got to work packaging up all his notes and sketchbooks. “Just be careful.”

She nodded.

—

The next stop was the graveyard. she wasn’t quite sure why she decided to come here, but she just wanted to see his grave. Maybe to cement the fact that her husband was dead at one point.

Problem was, the graveyard was fairly large, since Bludvist tended to keep things busy.

“Do we even know if his graved was marked?” Asked Snotlout.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I should have asked Gobber.”

“Pardon me,” a voice spoke.

Turning, they were greeted by a man not much older than the Princess, looking rather large and imposing. He wore red robes, those associated with the church, but had three blue lines inked on his broad chin.

“You’re a—“ Astrid began, taking a few steps towards her guard.

“A _milk drinker?_ ” He asked, pleasantly. “Yes, I _was_. Don’t worry, it frightens everyone. I may have been born up in the mountains, but I don’t consider it my home. My name is Eret, I’m the undertaker here. Now that you know that I’m not going to hurt you, can I help you?”

Astrid smiled in relief, but Snotlout did not relax his guard. “I’m looking for a grave. The name Henry, buried around November 13th.”

“Hmm…last name?”

“No last name.”

“No last name? Oh! I think I actually know who you’re talking about. This way.”

The Princess and her guard followed Eret past all sorts of statues of angels and headstones, until he stopped at a little plot. It was only marked with a puny wooden cross. “Well, this is it. Young Henry, died of starvation.”

“Yes, this would be the grave we’re looking for.” There was no body in it, but just the sight of the cross sent a real, true coldness to her bones. She crossed her arms a little.

“Did you know him?” The undertaker asked.

He obviously had no idea who she was, since her hood hid her identity. And it was safer that way. “No, not really. Did you?”

“A bit.” Said Eret. “I began to keep an eye on his mother after his passing. She’s quite ill, and it’s only a matter of time before…”

“What is she ill with?” Astrid asked, not hiding the concern in her voice.

“Not sure. She can’t afford a doctor. We here call it poverty disease. It’s when someone gets sick, and then can’t afford any care. Eventually it’s just exacerbated by them trying to continue working…”

“Where is she? I’d love to help.”

“She lives down in the narrows, by the old fishery. Her name is Valerie.”

—

Astrid, for being the Princess of a country, had never been to the narrows before. Surely, Stoick would throttle her if he found out she went there with only one guard.

“Hey Astrid?” Snotlout asked softly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re good at fighting too. This place makes me nervous. Not that I can’t protect you, but…”

“I wonder how many times Hiccup was jumped coming home from work?”

Snotlout sneered, “once would be too many.”

They spotted a woman doing laundry, and asked her if she knew of a woman named Valerie. Then they were pointed in the right direction. Despite the grittiness of the area, the folks were helpful enough. Though Astrid did receive a few too many lewd looks while Snotlout received the finger.

“I dressed down,” Astrid noted, looking at her plain clothes. “But I still look a lot nicer than all these people.”

“Lets just find Hiccup’s mom and get out of here.”

Finally, they came to a little shack. Smoke rose out of the little tin chimney, indicating that someone was home. Astrid knocked, “Hello? Miss Valerie?”

A weak voice answered from within. “Who is it? What do you want?”

“I…am a friend of your son’s. I would just like a word, please.”

There was a pause and then, “come in.”

The shack was in order. A small room with two beds opposite of each other, and a fire pit in the middle of the dirt floor. Nothing else was there to mention.

In one bed laid a woman, looking incredibly thin and frail. She fought to sit up, coughing a few times. “Hello?”

Astrid didn’t know what to say. A few months ago, she had mocked this woman, and called her crazy. But now, she was meeting her mother in law, and didn’t have a clue how to proceed. “Uh…”

“You knew my Henry?” The woman’s eyes were filled with sorrow, and the dirt on her hollow cheeks made her look like a skeleton.

Oh, Astrid should have put more thought into this. Yes, reuniting Hiccup was his mother sounded like a wonderfully kind thing to do. But the woman had already lost her son once, and now he was going again. This wasn’t fair to her.

“Please,” said Valerie. “Tell me how you knew him...I miss him so much.”

With a sad sigh, Astrid stepped forward, and took a seat on the bed, pulling her hood from her face. “I _know_ your son…”

“You’re…the Princess Astrid? But…how? Why? Here?” She shook her head. “Your husband, during the parade…”

“He is Henry,” She confirmed, holding the woman’s hand. “He’s alive.”

“He’s a—…” The woman dissolved into tears and curled in on herself.

Snotlout watched in awe as his princess embraced this filthy beggar woman in a comforting hug. He had fairly recent memories of Astrid spitting on such people.

But that was before Hiccup came along.

“Snotlout,” Astrid called.

“Highness,” he snapped to attention.

“Can you fetch a carriage? She needs to come with us to the palace.”

“No, no please...” the woman begged, her tears making streaks in the dirt on her face.

“Listen,” Astrid said, taking a firm grasp of her arms. “Henry is...he’s not the same boy that you knew. He did die, that is true. But the toy maker brought him back. He doesn’t remember who he used to be, and his body is entirely dependent on machinery now.”

“...what?” The woman breathed.

“Unfortunately...there’s been a malfunction.” She looked into the mother’s eyes, and felt her voice die in her throat. This wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be doing this! “He...he won’t last much longer. But you deserve to be with him, too.”

Valerie shut her eyes tight as she continued to cry, overwhelmed in grief and relief.

“But you’re very ill, and I can’t let you stay here.”

“I can’t!” Valerie protested. “I can’t go with you!”

Astrid pleaded with her, earnestly. “I’m not leaving my mother in law to starve like a wretch in this squalor! You’re coming with us!”

“No!” She cried. “It’s not safe for me! It’s not safe for Stoick! I can’t go back!”

Wait.

“What?” Asked Astrid, leaning closer. “What did you say?” No one ever called the Tsar by his first name alone, well, except for her.

Valerie shook her head. “I’ve already said too much, I can’t…it’s not safe…”

Gently, Astrid grasped the woman’s arm again. “Please. If this a threat to our safety, you need to tell me.”

The woman wiped her eyes, trembling. “I’m sorry…I…Valerie isn’t my real name.”

Astrid just stared at her, eyes narrowing.

“My name is Valka, Valka Haddock.”

Silence reigned as Astrid stood suddenly, shell shocked. Haddock was Stoick’s last name, a rare fact because of the royal status. And Valka…Valka had been the name of his late wife. The one taken by Bludvist.

“I don’t—“ Astrid stuttered, “I don’t understand. You’re the queen?”

Valka hushed her, “you mustn’t speak so loud!”

“I’m sorry,” Astrid took a calming breath and returned to sitting on the bed. “Please, continue. I’m all ears.”

Valka gnawed at her lip, nervously. “Stoick and I…we were married. At first, it was…a rough marriage. Arranged.”

She had heard a little about the marriage from Stoick. He wasn’t keen on talking about it, but when prodded, he admitted that he had been fond of her before she was lost.

“When I found out I was pregnant,” began the woman, “I was…overjoyed. Stoick was a nice, gentle man, but he didn’t love me the way I loved him. With our baby, it was like…I’d finally have a part of him to love me back. However…the Chancellor, Osvald Zerker, was not happy about this news.”

“The Chancellor? Why?”

“Because if anything happened to Stoick, he would win the crown.”

She had heard nothing of this before. “What? Since when?”

“Since Stoick was an only child with no heirs. Technically, Spitelout, the Captain of the Guard, was the closest relative, but he was not deemed competent enough to rule. So Osvald was deemed viceroy. That is…until the crown prince was to be born.”

A cold fear crept into the back of Astrid’s mind when she remembered Dagur. During a the fight that ensued over Mala’s pregnancy, he had carelessly mentioned that he was only interested in her for her power. Now it seemed like Dagur hadn’t gotten that idea on his own.

“Osvald came to me one night, two guards with him,” Valka continued. “He gave me a choice. I could purposefully lose my baby, or I could save him and kill Stoick in his sleep. If I refused to both, they would take me to Bludvist, and that would be the cue to start the raids on the royals.” 

“So…Osvald wanted to take the throne?” Astrid asked. This would confirm the plot of assassination those men had warned them about.

“Yes, and he was willing to do whatever it took to get it.”

This was turning out to be a very interesting and insightful day. As soon as they returned to the palace, she would make sure that Osvald was jailed. 

“I chose to run. After a while, the guard stopped looking for me, and assumed I was taken by Bludvist. In this way, I was able to protect Henry _and_ Stoick.”

“Oh my god!” Astrid said suddenly, the last bit of information clicking into place. “Hi—Henry is Stoick’s son!”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“He’s the Crown Prince!”

“ _Yes_.”

Astrid put her hands on her head, dealing with this information. What a strange twist of fate. She shook herself out of her trance. If all this was true, she had a lot of work left to do. “Well, it’s safe now.” Astrid assured. “Osvald can threaten you all he likes, but I personally saw that Bludvist was eradicated. And we are aware of the assassination plot, so the guard in the palace in on alert.”

“But some of the guards are plotting with Osvald!”

“Never the less,” Astrid pressed. “I am next in line for the throne. If he wants to hurt Stoick, he’ll have to get to me first, and I will personally make him suffer as Fragonard suffered.” 

Uncertainty was still violently within Valka. After all, she had spent her whole life hiding, and just a few words were supposed to put her at ease?

“You’re coming with us. I’m not giving you a choice.”

Resigned, Valka closed her eyes. “Alright then, I’ll come back.”


	10. Act X

After Valka reluctantly agreed to return to the palace, she was seen by several doctors and placed in one of Stoick’s chambers. After some medicine, a bath, proper food, and rest in a warm, dry environment, Valka would likely make a full recovery.

Still, Stoick didn’t know about this great news. But Astrid was about to rectify that situation. She knocked on his office door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Astrid, may I come in?”

“Yes.” There was a note of confusion in his voice, since she usually barged right in.

She entered, a nervous look on her face.

“What did you do?” He asked.

“Something good, I hope.” She was excited to reunite her guardian with Valka, she really was. But there was a gnawing feeling of doubt in her. What if he didn’t want to see her?

He merely raised an eyebrow and waited for her to elaborate.

“I…we have a guest,” She finally stated. “She’s ill, and she needed a place to stay.”

“Hmph.” Said the Tsar, going back to work. “It’s been a while since you’ve picked up a stray. I thought the twins were the last of that trend.”

“I have a feeling you’ll be happy to have her here.”

Stoick looked up from his letter, intrigued.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

So he followed her to his chambers, to Valka’s old room when she lived in the palace. He gave her a questioning look, but she did not respond. Instead, she knocked gently, “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” said the soft voice within. “Come in.”

Astrid opened the door, and led the Tsar in. Then she watched his face as his phlegmatic stare wilted into what she could only describe as heartbroken shock. “Valka…”

“Stoick…” She whispered back, tears on her cheeks.

“How,” he looked at the Princess, and then back at his wife, his words nowhere to be found.

“I know it must be difficult to see me again,” said the woman. “I was gone for so long…I’ve probably interrupted your life. I…I wasn’t going to come back. I couldn’t.” Her brows scrunched up. “I didn’t mean to embarrass or scare you by leaving. I was your wife, your queen…but it wasn’t safe, not for me and Henry, I had to leave.” At this point she was just rambling, trying to come up with something coherent to say. “I know that you don’t have the same feelings for me, but I…I love you, Stoick. I did when I left, and I still do. And I left because I love you…that doesn’t make any sense, does it? I was just scared for you. I just…will you say something?”

As she spoke, he had been staring at her, partially in disbelief and mostly in awe. When he finally found himself, he reached out a quavering hand and caressed her cheek. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you…”

She didn’t feel beautiful. She was sunken, malnourished. Twenty years had passed, and time had not been kind. But he studied her, like she was a piece of art, while tears gathered in his eyes.

She couldn’t respond and just broke down into sobs as he kissed her lovingly.

Astrid watched from the door, her heart clenching. Seeing Stoick happy to tears made her feel good, and to see that Valka, the poor woman, was safe and loved...she just felt like she had done a great deed.

She even got to hear Stoick’s sweet whisper of, “I love you, too. I did since the day we met.”

Finally, Stoick leaned back, his face full of concern. “But wait, if you’re here, then where’s Henry? Is he—?”

Valka glanced at the Princess. “You didn’t tell him?” She asked carefully.

Astrid shook her head.

“What? Tell me what?”

Astrid stepped forward, answering for the mother. She had made enough shocking revelations the evening. “Do you remember when I said that...Hiccup had been revived? That he had been alive at one time?”

Realization hit him like a brick. His eyes blown wide, his mouth hung open as a choking gasp fought its way out. Stoick stumbled back a step, his face pale. “Hiccup is—?”

He fell to his knees. Fists clenched and eyes sewn shut, he made small whimpering sounds. “No...no...no...”

Astrid didn’t even know how to comfort him. There was no comfort to be found.

Suddenly, he pounded his fists on the floor. “How did this happen?! How the hell did this happen?!”

Valka shrank at his anger, terrified. But as he looked at her, she only saw pain.

“You said you were scared. Who did this to you? Who did this to _him_?”

Using great strength, Valka pushed off the bed and crouched in front of her husband, holding his face. “I’m sorry,” she said earnestly. “Chancellor Osvald gave me the choice to save either you or Henry. I choose to leave with him to keep you both safe.”

Stoick’s nostrils flared.

“I should have sent a note or—or...I was just so afraid.”

“Where have you been all this time? How did we not find you?! We looked everywhere!”

“We were in the Narrows…”

“The Narrows!” He moaned. Stoick hugged her tightly, hushing her cries as her tears fell on his shoulder. “Oh Val, it’s not your fault. Love, I’m not mad at you. You had to—“ His words were cut off as he kissed her again. “You kept him safe...for awhile at least.”

That seemed to be the words that broke the dam, as she began to wail into him. “He was such a good boy! He didn’t deserve—he starved because of me! He was worried about me and gave me his food—!”

“Where is he now?” Asked Stoick.

“He’s in bed, I didn’t wind him up today.” Answered Astrid.

Stoick coaxed his wife to sit up and look at him. “Val...we can’t tell him who he is.”

“What...?”

“Did Astrid tell you about what Bludvist did to him?”

“He…doesn’t have much time left,” Valka provided. “And so he should spend it with us, his family.”

“Or should he continue to think that he was just made to make Astrid happy? Does he want to die knowing he’s leaving so many people that love him behind? That they’ll be sad when he’s gone?”

Valka glanced to Astrid, “what do you think, honey?” She asked softly.

The tone was motherly and full of compassion, and made Astrid’s bleeding heart burst. “I—I don’t know,” She answered. “Maybe—I have his journals!” She remembered suddenly. “He’s the one that created the system in the first place! If he can read and remember, maybe he’ll figure out a way to fix himself! Then he won’t have to say goodbye!”

Valka and Stoick looked to each other, and then back at her. “Well, it’s worth a shot.”

“But first,” said Stoick, getting to his feet. He went to the door and called for a guard.

Snotlout was the first to appear, hand raised in a salute. “Sir!”

“Fetch your father for me, son. We have an arrest to make.”

—

That night, Astrid had trouble sleeping. Despite having an exhausting day of running around, her mind was frantic with wild thoughts. She rolled over to look at Hiccup, her husband, her confident…

The Crown Prince.

It was bizarre, and down right insane. This whole time, he and Valka were alive. They had been suffering, but they were alive. 

In another universe, if they hadn’t left, maybe she would have married him on her own. Or maybe Stoick would have arranged it when she was taken in. Maybe she would have never courted Dagur. Maybe her family wouldn’t have been killed.

So many ‘what if’s and ‘maybe’s. 

Astrid snuggled closer to him, pressing her head to his chest. There she was met with the familiar, soothing ticking sound, the soft whirls of gears. No heartbeat, the sound of a machine.

But that didn’t stop her from seeing him as a man now. A man worthy of her affections, a man worthy of the crown. More worthy than anyone, really.

And if it wasn’t for Bludvist, he could have been the greatest ruler they’d ever had.

Odd how things change. She didn’t want to be a Princess and all that came with it, but to be an all powerful Queen? That much power to make anyone do whatever she wanted without being bossed around was a dream. Mostly she wanted it to rid the kingdom of Bludvist, but since that was crossed off her list, she found herself lacking in desire for absolute power. It didn’t feel like a goal anymore, just a perk of the title. She’d rule one day, without him. Without any other man at her side. Maybe she’d be allowed to pick a child as an heir instead. 

Astrid put these thoughts away as she held his hand. It was callous and cold, but still soft. It fit hers perfectly, as she wove their fingers together.

“What to do, what to do…?” She whispered to herself. She had admitted it to him before she acknowledged it herself. He was her best friend, maybe something even more, and she really didn’t want him to leave.

Right, his journals! He would read them, and then surely his memory would return, and he’d figure out a way to fix himself, right?

Right?

Astrid glanced over to the table with the books on it. She knew next to nothing about his old life, except that he was stupidly self-less and dirt poor. It wasn’t her business, but still, her thoughts were rapid and her heart uneasy. She needed a distraction. _Go to the library_ , she told herself, _or go to the kitchen!_ But the pull to the unknown was far too tempting.

So, she untangled from his hand, and tip-toed over to the table. There was no reason to be quiet, she wouldn’t wake him, but she didn’t want to disturb the sacred silence of their secret. If she was quiet, she could pretend he didn’t have a key in his back, that he was just sleeping, and that all this was just a bad dream.

She lit the oil lamp on the table, sending the room into a soft light.

There were about ten journals in front of her. Some of them were notes on inventions, not even toys. Some were just sketchbooks, filled with still-lifes and rough portraits.

Then, she found the book filled with his thoughts, his day to day activities, and interactions.

This wasn’t her business. She didn’t need to know. But the urge to dive into his brain was too strong to stave off. Astrid glanced at her husband once more, as if he had moved, and opened the journal.

“Just one,” she told herself. “I’m only going to read one.”

And so, biting her lip, she flipped through the book. The entries weren’t frequent, and often skipped days in between. But the dates on the pages counted up until…

_November 12, 1897_

_I’m having a hard time thinking straight. This hunger is unlike anything I’ve dealt with before. It’s gone past an aching stomach, now I’m so sick, I don’t even want to eat. I have stuff I need to do, projects for Gobber, tools to fix. Not to mention mom’s still sick._

_God, I’m still so angry about that mugger. I worked those long hours, took on that second job at the fishery, and I had everything we needed to get us out of this piss shed, and now I have nothing. I haven’t told mom yet…I don’t know if I have the heart to tell her. I’m just so tired._

_Honestly, I want to die. This is no way to live. Is it awful for me to think like that? Probably, but who cares? Who cares about us down here? I’m listening to my mom cough up blood three feet away from me, and all I can do is shrug. My own mother, who has given up so much for me, the greatest luxuries and riches in the world, and the crown, just to save my sorry ass, and for what? To die in the dirt. Disgusting. She’d be better off without me. I’m the one holding her back from returning to Stoick._

_I hate this. I hate my life. I hate this kingdom. Please God, just let me die._

_Maybe that’s just the hunger talking. I am really tired, though. I think Gobber will let it go if I skip work tomorrow, just once. He’s been worried about me ever since that little slip on the ice. Besides, tomorrow night is the Princess’s birthday ball, and I don’t want to miss it. Her majesty has the most beautiful smile, when it’s sincere. It’s the only thing in this life worth living for. Pathetic, isn’t it? I just hope one of these days, I can gather the courage to admit I’ve been the one making her presents for the last few years. Maybe then, she’ll give me a genuine smile. I might even get a thank you. Who knows? Wouldn’t that be something?_

Astrid’s hands trembled as she reached the end of the page.

_And then what? Everything will magically get better? The Tsar will somehow know who I am, and we’ll all live happily ever after? God I wish I never knew! Why did this happen to me? What did I do wrong?_

He knew. He knew that he was the Crown Prince, and yet he never tried to claim it. Had Valka warned him of the plot? That could be the only reason.

_And now I’m coughing up blood. Fine, I’m staying home tomorrow. You win, cruel world. Up yours._

There was such raw emotion in his words. He spoke of hatred, and love. Anger and hope. He was real, true, and passionate. And these were his dying thoughts. In his final hours, he thought of her, and her smile. She brought him some semblance of happiness. If only she had known, she would have followed him around, beaming, just to ease his pain.

Astrid knew she was crying, since the words had gotten blurred through the tears, but she went back and re-read the entry again and again. This was Hiccup, really and truly, him.

She just hoped she could see this version of him before he stopped working. More importantly, she hoped he wouldn’t suffer this time.


	11. Act XI

We’re reaching the end! Only a few chapters left.

I’m also doing commissions if anyone is interested! Check me out on Tumblr.

The political intrigue was always supposed to just be a background conflict, so I’m sorry if things are hazy in the chapter.

—

The next week was busy. Chancellor Zerker had been taken into custody, just like his son. With that came a whole heap of matters. Meetings, meetings, and more meetings.

Dutifully, Astrid wound Hiccup up every morning, and apologized for her absence. He took in stride, however, and read in the library.

But one evening, she returned to their bedroom to find Hiccup reclined on the bed, on his side. One hand held open the pages of a notebook while the other lazily stroked Toothless’ soft tummy. Said cat was stretched to the max, in pure kitty heaven. Pathetic.

“Oh,” she stated, seeing him.

He looked up at her, with calculating look. “Where did you find these?”

It seemed like the cat was out of the bag. Though, she hadn’t really hid his notes, only his journal. Stoick and Valka wanted to hide his identity of Prince for now, she’d respect that.

For now.

But she couldn’t hide this.

She sighed, “Hiccup, I’m sorry. I didn’t wind you up a few days ago.”

There was fleeting hurt in his eyes, but he allowed her to continue.

“You said it didn’t matter who you were before, but it matters to me. So I did some digging, and Gobber finally admitted who you are. Your name is Henry, and you used to be his apprentice. These notebooks and sketchbooks belong to you.”

He didn’t say a word, just looked back at the pages, tracing the smudged ink and charcoal with his finger.

“I did this,” he said, hollowly. “I’m responsible for this.”

Astrid knelt on the mattress, not knowing how to handle him. Gently, she rested a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged out of it.

“Hiccup?”

“I’m an abomination...”

“Oh, Hiccup. No...no no no...”

“Yes! I am!” He barked, startling her. “Look at this!” He flipped the pages back, showing her diagrams and sketches of anatomy. “ _The motor sends electric signals to the brain, triggering the body to act._ It’s not real thoughts, it’s all fabricated. My brain is dead, my heart is dead! There’s a little clamp on my heart, making it contract to keep the blood flowing so the rest of my organs don’t start to decompose! This is wrong! It’s all here!”

“Henry...”

“No! I’m dead!” He shouted.

In the silence that followed, Astrid heard the distinct sound of him panting. He swallowed, crushed and fearful.

“So...you don’t want to fix yourself?” Astrid asked.

He stared back at her, incredulously. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Yes, but people have been calling you a monster and an abomination since before we were married. I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now.”

He seemed unconvinced, and took back his book.

“Take Gobber for example,” she began.

“What about him?”

“Well, in order to function, he needs artificial limbs.”

“I have one of those too,” he mentioned, gesturing to his leg.

“What about Lady Paola? She uses a chair to move around instead of her legs.”

“But—“

“And all the people that have to take medicine to lead normal lives, are they abominations?”

“No! Because it’s not the same thing!”

“How so?”

“They aren’t dead!”

“And neither are you.”

He went to raise his voice again, and all at once, he realized who he was yelling at and sheepishly recoiled. “Sorry, I—“

“Henry.”

“Hiccup is fine,” he interrupted.

She smiled softly. “Hiccup, I don’t know that much about human anatomy. But I know that if something is dead, it doesn’t work anymore. Maybe your brain and heart stopped at one time, and now they just need some help.”

“Stopped…” Suddenly, he looked at her with a smile. His attitude seemed to do a full 180. “Astrid, you’re a genius.”

“I know I am, but what did I say?”

“I….I have an idea. It might be a way to fix me, but I’ll have to work on it for a while. Hopefully…it doesn’t take too long.”

She nodded knowingly.

He smiled softly at her. “I’m sorry for getting upset.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” She assured, “you’re allowed to get upset about things.”

“Okay,” he spoke, flexing his hands. “Okay.”

—

Two weeks after Valka was discovered, it was time for Osvald Zerker to pay for his crimes.

He stood, chains on his hands in front of Stoick, who was acting Judge. Valka sat in a chair not too far away, wrapped in a blanket with a nurse nearby. Astrid and Hiccup watched from the front row. Up until today, Hiccup had not see or spoken to Valka, only told that she was a guest of Stoick’s. As the hearing was conducted, he stared at her, a nagging feeling a familiarity in the back of his head.

“Will the accused please step forward.” Stoick stated.

Osvald took a sauntering step up, his eyes full of malice and hate. He was a large man, broad shoulders, and big arms. Well, one big arm, and a matching prosthetic. He’d had it as long as Astrid had known him. He had dark eyes, a hook nose, and the most grisly voice of anyone she’d ever met.

“You stand accused of treason, heading up a plot to assassinate the Tsar of Berk, of terrorizing the queen, and making threats about my unborn son. How do you plead?”

“Guilty.” Said Osvald, almost haughtily.

“Then by the order of the Crown and Council, I hereby exile you to Bludvist.”

That was not what Astrid wanted. She stood immediately and shouted, “I object!”

Stoick sighed, but remained calm. He was the judge in the trial, after all, he had to stay unbiased. “On what grounds?”

“For his crimes, he should be executed!” She demanded.

“Princess Astrid, that is not up to you to decide. Though you may be personally invested in the situation, you must not let emotions cloud your judgement.” Though he said it, he agreed with her. But, that was not the agreement they reached with the council. She knew that.

“But I have good reason to object!” She took a step forward. “Fragonard told me, when we fought, that Bludvist will always have a leader. He claimed that we killed Drago, and then he gained power. I have no doubt that Osvald would quickly seize that space without Fragonard.”

Stoick made a mental note about Drago’s death. He had heard that Fragonard did him in, but did not bring him up. “But Astrid, you assured to me yourself that you left the mountains in ruins. My men confirmed that when they went to retrieve Dagur Zerker from the dungeon. There is nothing up there but snow.”

“That we know of.” Astrid said with a bite. She would not allow this sentence to pass as it was. “There will always be criminals and lowlifes. If you give them a king, this whole cycle will start over again. I say we end it now!”

“And I say,” said Stoick, forcefully, “that a coup is nasty business. If Osvald is executed, riots could erupt, and someone might try to take his place. With exile, things should calm down.”

“For a while, maybe!” Astrid shouted. “Until Bludvist gets back up on its feet. And then what?! Another palace on fire!”

“Astrid, please. The council has already reached a decision.”

“And another thing!” She interrupted. “Osvald was the chancellor! How many council members are playing both sides?!”

“We already conducted an investigation—“

“Who did? Because it wasn’t me! And I honestly don’t know who to trust!”

“Which is why we go with exile!”

“Execution!”

Suddenly, to make things even more complicated, a guard standing by Hiccup snatched him up and put him into a headlock. “Nobody move!”

Astrid growled, ready to pounce, but the guard was armed, and she was not.

Osvald remained calmly in place.

“Let him go!” The traitorous guard said. There was a strong standstill as he reached down with his free hand and grabbed hold of the key at Hiccup’s back, halting it’s turn. It response, a horrendous grinding noise rang out and Hiccup screamed in pain.

Valka stood quickly from her seat and cried out for him, “Henry!”

Stoick also stood, and moved with heavy, looming steps towards the guard. The Tsar was a mountainous man, bigger than most, and even some bears. He glowered at the traitor, and spoke with venom and the authority of the crown. “Unhand my son.”

The traitor trembled, but sought to finish his mission. “Long live Drago, the true Tsar of Berk!” And he ripped the key out of his back.

Hiccup gave a finally shout of pain before crumbling.

Snotlout finally was able to tackle the man and land several punches to his face.

Stoick caught Hiccup as he fell, and clamped his hand over the wound on his back. The keyhole started to bleed.

In a flourish of motion, Osvald was escorted, by Spitelout himself, back to his cell. Snotlout and two other guards saw to the assailant and Dagur. Valka looked weak, and despite her protests, her nurse hurried her from the room. Hiccup was whisked off to Gobber’s for repairs once again, with Astrid hesitating.

“What’s wrong, lass?” Stoick asked quickly, noticing her pause.

“I’m worried about Hiccup, but that man said…”

“Where do you want to go?”

She cringed, “I want to know Hiccup’s okay…but I don’t want to see…” She trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

Tuffnut bowed at the waist, “If my lady permits me, I shall go in your stead, and I’ll send for you when all is well.”

Astrid nodded heavily, grateful.

Stoick, who appeared calm on the outside, pinched the bridge of his nose and then looked at the blood on his hand. “Bloody hell.”

“I’m sorry I got involved in the trial,” she began. “I was just—“

“Astrid, that man was going to do that to Hiccup no matter what verdict was served. I understand what you’re saying, and I do want him executed. But it’s because of all these little bugs he has everywhere that we can’t.”

“It’s because of them that we should!” She argued back. “You take away the leader, and then they have nothing! This is just going to continue over and over!”

“Astrid, you’re not thinking clearly—“

“No I’m not!” She agreed with a shout. “But I’m sick and tired of this, Stoick! I lost my whole family to this _cult_ , and I’m losing my husband! Please, I’m desperate…” She sobbed, “please…let him die. End this…”

Stoick hated to see her cry, and he hated what this was doing to her.

But instead he beckoned her along. They travelled out of the courtroom and back into the castle, wordlessly. Astrid followed him to his chambers, where he washed his hands and changed his shirt.

“We will have a word with Osvald in the Dungeon. What that man said about Drago has me concerned.”

“You don’t think Drago is still alive, do you? Fragonard was supposed to have killed him twenty years ago.”

“But didn’t you say Fragonard told you Drago was killed by us?”

“Well yes, but couldn’t he have been lying?”

“You have to wonder...”

Astrid took a seat on a chaise. “But what does Osvald have to do with Drago? He wasn’t even Chancellor when he was killed.”

Stoick furrowed his brows, pacing. “That’s the question...”

A horrible thought popped into her head. “You don’t think...Stoick, did you ever meet or see Drago?”

The Tsar sighed. “I saw his shadow once. Many years ago, there was a fire that raged through the town. Everyone was working to put it out. And as I stood at the edge of the square, I saw a long, huge shadow drawn across the ground. A figure stood at what must have been the hottest, brightest part, and he called out to me. ‘Stoick,’ he said, ‘One day Berk will be mine! And I will build my throne of your bones.’ And then he disappeared into the flames. We search everywhere for him, but we ne’r found him.”

“What did he look like?”

“Honestly, he looked like a blob. A big, huge, blob.” He stopped his pacing and looked at her. “Why?”

“This might sound crazy, but I think…I think Osvald might actually be Drago.”

Stoick frowned. “That’s impossible. Drago would have killed me years ago.”

“Would he? Even if Berk was a quarter of the size it is now?”

“Gods above…” He grit his teeth and declared, “we will have a word with him.”

Astrid nodded, and stood. “Then I need to be prepared.”

To anyone else, it may have seemed foolish, but she wasn’t going to face that man without a weapon. She might have sworn off fighting after the fight with Fragonard, but she’d make an exception this time. Especially if there was traitors in their midst.

In the sweep of the mountain, her axe had been recovered and cleaned. It sat in a case in her room, waiting for her. She took it, the leather on the handle warm and familiar.

“Hello old friend, I need you one last time.”

She and Stoick returned to the Dungeon, where Dagur and Osvald were held in matching cells. The traitorous guard was across from them, his face bloody and bruised.

Stoick approached him first. “Now,” he began, his voice forceful. “What did you mean by ‘Long live Drago?’”

The guard wasn’t that much older than Snotlout, but his rank was much lower. He looked between the royals, his eyes fearful, and then looked past them to Osvald.

“I…” he started, but he shook his head and stopped.

“Is Drago alive?”

Still, nothing.

“Is he here?”

The silence was maddening, and Astrid felt a bead of sweat travel down her spine. As she was about to shout at him, Osvald spoke.

“Well, Stoick. This has been a fun little game, hasn’t it?”

The Tsar glanced over his shoulder, acknowledging the grisly speaker.

“But it seems I’ve been found out.”

Dagur, of all people, gasped. “D-Dad, you’re Drago? The _Drago_?”

“Sorry son, I meant to tell you, but I was saving it for a coronation present.” His smile was sickening. “Well, Oh King? Now that you know the truth, what do you prepare to do?”

Stoick nodded once, and held his hand out to Astrid, “your axe, please.”

“But—“

“Astrid,” he still spoke softly. “I would like the honor.”

Begrudgingly, she handed over her weapon.

“Open the door.”

Astrid held her breath as her guardian, her protector and mentor, stepped into the cell with the greatest murderer in the land. She could hardly breathe.

And had she not been on edge, she wouldn’t have seen Drago’s slight nod to the guards.

But she did see it, so she was able to fend off their hands before they grabbed her, and she was able to disarm one of his spear and take down the other.

Drago was obviously not expecting it, and so was unprepared for the axe that came sailing towards his head.

Stoick returned the axe, covered in blood once again. “Execution it was then.”

Once the other guards were thrown into cells, they returned upstairs.

Astrid sighed with exhaustion. “I guess we should begin purging the guards.”

“Spitelout will take care of that.” He assured, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “For now, go to your husband. He needs you, as my wife needs me.”

\--

Astrid and Snotlout went together to Gobber’s.

Just like the last time, Hiccup laid on his stomach, the keyhole bared to her.

“There,” Said Gobber, wiping his hands on his smock. “Human flesh has been stitched, and a quick soldering job, and he should be good as new. Well, as new as he was the last time I fixed him up.”

He sounded optimistic at least, and she took the key from him with a nod of thanks.

“Of course…” he thought, trailing off. “It might be…hm.”

“What is it?”

“Well, mishandling him is what ruined him in the first place. Tuffnut said the man held the key while it was still winding, I don’t know…aw, it should be fine.”

Nevertheless, Astrid inserted the key, and gave it a few good cranks.

Hiccup awakened with a gasp and he sat up quickly.

“Astrid!?”

“I’m here,” she calmed, holding his hand.

“Where are we? Why is it so dark?”

“I only have so many candles, boy-o.” Answered Gobber.

“Gobber? Where…?” He reached his other hand out, groping in the air.

“Oh god…” Astrid breathed.

“What? What is it?!” Hiccup panicked.

“What do you see?”

“Nothing! I can’t see anything! It’s pitch black!”

Gobber muttered to himself, “…I guess it’s not all fine.”

Astrid glared him down. “What did you do?”

“Don’t look at me! I fixed his back! I didn’t even touch his eyes!”

“What’s wrong with my eyes!?” Hiccup continued to panic.

“Hiccup,” Astrid took his hands, both in hers, rubbing the backs with her thumbs. “I…I’m afraid you’ve lost your sight.”

“Lost my…no. No. I can’t—I was just—…” He swallowed, tears welling in his sightless orbs. “Not yet…”

Astrid continued to rub his knuckles, unable to say anything more.

“I knew this would happen,” he admitted. “After reading my notes. As time goes on, the system starts to work harder and harder to keep the heart pumping. To compensate, it lets go of other functions…like senses. I just…thought I would have fixed myself by then.”

“So you know how to?” Asked Gobber.

“I…have a theory. I need a massive jolt to start my heart, like a lightning bolt straight to my chest.”

Tuffnut chirped up, “Then we just have you stand outside during the next thunderstorm!”

“And kill me in the process?”

“So what do you suppose we do?”

Hiccup shrugged. “I don’t know now. I wasn’t finished with my notes, so I think there might be another solution. But…” He gestured to his face. “That guard that held my key put a strain on my body, and made the system work overtime, speeding up the shut down.”

Gobber scratched his chin. “I read those notes over a hundred times. But I’ll read them a hundred more, if I can figure it out.”

Hiccup only grimaced as a miserable tear fell down his cheek.

“Well, let’s get you home,” suggested Astrid. “I’ll send Tuffnut back with the notes.”

A carriage came for them, and Astrid helped her husband climb into the seat.

“I’m sorry,” he said, once they were inside. “I’m going to be a burden on you now.”

“Nonsense.”

“But I—“

“I don’t mind helping you, Hiccup. I might not be able to all the time, but we’ll make it work.”

He spoke towards the floor. “Well, you might not have me for much longer anyway.”

The rest of the ride carried on in silence.

Back at the castle, Astrid led him by the hand towards their room, but they were stopped on the way by Stoick.

“Ah, good to see you up and about, lad.”

His voice triggered something. Something that he said during the attack. When that woman, his guest, cried out to him, using his real name.

He gasped in realization. She was the woman from the parade, the woman who claimed to be his mother. Wasn’t she? And why was she here? With Stoick?

_Unhand my son._

Hiccup stood silent and frozen for what felt like a full minute. Thoughts, memories, and realizations all zoomed through his head, one after another, the truth becoming evident.

“Hiccup?”

“I’m the Crown Prince of Berk.”

Stoick, ever calm and collected, just nodded. “Aye, that you are.”

“You’re my father.”

“Aye, that I am.”

Hiccup trembled as he combed his hands through his hair.

“Do you need to sit down?” Astrid asked, softly.

He nodded weakly as she led him over to sit. All the while, his eyes stayed trained to the ground.

“Sit here a moment, I’m going to tell him about you.”

The Prince. Did everyone know about this? Astrid didn’t seemed shocked to learn this information, so why had she hidden it from him? Why had everyone stayed quiet?

Hiccup brought a trembling hand to his mouth as more and more memories came to the surface, each more heartbreaking than the last. The day his mother sat him down and told him about being a prince, but that they could never return to the palace. That his father was the most wise and gentle man, but it wasn’t safe to meet him. Then the memories of him caring about her came, and the depressive thoughts returned. Death stood at his shoulder, reminding him of what once was, and where he’d return.

“Hiccup?” Astrid spoke, kneeling next to him.

“S-So this whole time, you wanted me to find a way from me to fix myself so I could take over your responsibility?”

“No! That’s not it at all!”

“Then why did you hide this from me? Why would you keep something like this a secret?”

“Because we didn’t want to break your heart!” She shouted.

Hiccup relaxed his rigid stance. “What?”

“Your parents thought of it. If you were to find out that you were the Prince, and that they were your parents…you might be in pain when you finally broke down. They wanted this to be as easy on you as possible.”

“And so they lied to me? You lied to me? I feel heartbroken _right now!_ ” Obviously, the lie wasn’t the only thing tearing him up. She was certain the fact that he was now blind wasn’t helping things.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. She felt like she had been apologizing to him a lot lately. Even for things that weren’t her fault. “I wanted to tell you, but…I saw what they meant. We hoped that we could find a way to save you, and then we’d tell you.”

Hiccup wasn’t looking towards her, as he hugged himself.

“But, I think it’s better this way after all.” She admitted. “You have the right to know.”

Still, his brow was creased and full of anxiety. “Who am I, Astrid?”

“I just told you, you’re Henry Horrendous Haddock III Crown Prince of Berk.”

“Am I though?” He asked, cringing. “I have all these memories of my old life, but here, with you, I haven’t lived more than 6 months. In that time, I’ve been a Toy, a husband, a Duke, a beggar, a toymaker…and now a Prince? I…I don’t know what my name is anymore. Henry was my birth name, but Hiccup is my new name…I just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Regardless of fuzzy far off memories, you have always been the one telling me what to do. Who I was, what to wear, how to act…even what I know!”

She frowned, but did not disagree.

“So what, or who, am I?”

Astrid took his hands gently in hers. “You are you. You’re my best friend, my confident, my husband. You’re smart, brave, kind, wise, and handsome. You’re a mystery, one that has been…a delight to try to understand. You have titles, and names, and a family that loves you. But everything else is up to you to decide.”

“Astrid?”

“Yes?”

“I…” he reached out for her, his fingers groping the air to find her face.

She grasped his hand slightly, and placed it on her cheek so he could feel her reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry, but I love you.” He finished.

“Why on Earth are you sorry about that?”

He smiled at her, but it was painfully sad. “Because I’ll be leaving soon, and you can do so much better.”

“Hiccup…”

“I’ve always loved you. Even before I…before all this.” He gestured to himself. “That is something I remember.”

His confession felt like a double edged sword. On one hand, it’s all she ever wanted. Just someone who loved her for her, and who changed her for the better.

But…’til death do us part’ was approaching rapidly.

Her voice got stuck in her throat, and all she was able to do was kiss his forehead gently.

—

Reminder that there is a happy ending!


	12. Act XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all ready for some more pain?
> 
> The song in this chapter is ‘Falling Free’ by Eivør.

—

Spring had sprung. Well, what could be called Spring, considering it was June. Gone were the gloomy days that dragged on for months, and the gray that clung to the hearts of the townsfolk. For Drago, and all his threats, were gone, and everyone began to emerge from their homes and embrace their fellow man. A new era had began, an era of growth.

It was a bright, sunny day, the trees in the courtyard bursting with flowers and color. 

Though, Hiccup couldn’t see them.

The royal couple walked their normal trail, holding hands as they reveled in the peaceful spring time breeze. The flowers gave off a heavenly scent, one that was soothing to the soul.

“…and then Snotlout said, ‘I’m sorry my lady, but I just can’t let you leave the palace by yourself.’ He was doing his job of course, but I was such a brat. I crossed my arms and stomped my foot, but he would not relent. I think at the time, he was more afraid of his father than me.”

Hiccup smiled as she spoke.

“So, with no other option, I kicked him between the legs, and he fell like a tree. Then I ran passed him and out to the streets, but he chased after me, the poor thing. He was doubled over the whole time. From that point, I think he realized that I could take care of myself, but I let him pretend he was working.”

Hiccup laughed, a silent wheeze escaping.

Moments between them were often filled with talking, either one person discussing something passionate, and the other listening in adoration, or both wrapped up in deep, thought provoking conversation. But even the silences that stretched between them were comfortable.

Silence was more often then not these days. About a week ago, Hiccup had lost the ability to speak. One morning he awoke and found he could only talk in the softest whispers.

Doctors had called it a paralyzed vocal cord, and Hiccup himself confirmed it was part of the shut down. Still, it made communication extremely difficult, because whenever he did try to vocalize, no one could barely hear him, and he often choked instead. So, he opted to just stay silent.

So here he was, mute and blind, only able to be guided by Astrid. It was a simple life, just sit where you’re placed. Nothing much else to do. So Astrid filled the time by reading to him, or telling stories of life before him. Anything to keep him occupied.

Anything to keep him from the depressive state that she saw in his journal.

“Astrid, Hiccup,” Stoick greeted, coming into the courtyard, Valka on his arm.

“Morning,” Astrid greeted with a smile.

Hiccup smiled and waved.

“There’s something I… _we_ wanted to talk to you two about,” he began.

“Oh?”

“As you know, this Friday is Valka’s re-coronation as Queen.”

Astrid rolled her eyes with a smile, “And are you telling me I need to be on my best behavior? Because, I assure you, nothing will get in the way of this ceremony. It will be perfect, I can guarantee it.”

Valka giggled, “glad to hear it.”

“While that is reassuring, that’s not what I had in mind.”

“Oh…”

“After the ceremony, there is a ball. Valka and I will have a dance together, and then…so will you and Hiccup.”

Astrid glanced over at her husband, seeing his brows creased.

“Not that I would refuse a dance with him…but I don’t think he’s able to. Are you?”

She leaned in close to hear him, “not really.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“That’s why I’m giving you a heads up. There will be guests to entertain and a rehearsal, oh and of course a dress fitting…”

“Of course…”

“…but I’ll make sure there’s plenty of time for you two to practice.”

Hiccup placed a hand on his chest and patted it, in a way of saying ‘I’m the one that needs practice.’

“Well, if Astrid isn’t around,” Stoick chuckled slightly, “Snotlout is a pretty good dancer as any.”

“He is,” Astrid confirmed. “He helped me practice for all the dances I had to learn.”

Hiccup shrugged.

Suddenly, he halted in movement, his eyes shutting as his key came to a halt.

Astrid sighed and dutifully wound him up again. She was winding him all the way up up every morning, just like she used to, but it didn’t last as long. As time went on, she found herself winding up the key more and more often in a day.

Hiccup blinked and reached out for her.

“I’m here. You’ve only been out for a minute or so.”

He nodded in thanks and appreciation.

Valka stepped up and cupped his face, letting her thumb trail over his cheek. “My good boy, what a strange path we tread. Every time I see you, I’m amazed.” She embraced him in a hug, and whispered a secret into his ear. “The first time you left, I was heartbroken. You spent your life suffering.” She swallowed hard, “But this time, I know you’ll rest in peace.”

As she pulled away, she saw a tear roll down his cheek.

Astrid noticed and squeezed his hand in comfort.

He managed a smile for his mother, and squeezed Astrid’s hand back.

—

No one could prepare Hiccup for how tough it was to dance without being able to see. When Astrid was with him, he allowed her to lead them, as they made practiced moves all throughout the dance floor. She tried to keep it as simple as possible for him, but still he tripped over his leg or stepped on her foot.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s alright,” she said through clenched teeth. He had stepped on her with his fake foot, which had been extremely painful. “That’s why we practice.” Wiggling her toes, she stood again. “You’re a good dancer, for not growing up going to balls.”

He shrugged, “My mother showed me.”

Astrid gave him a soft ‘ah’ and then looked at the time. “Oh great, I have a meeting with some duchess in 15 minutes. I better go. Would you like to go to the library?”

He pointed at the floor. “Practice.”

“Alright, I’ll send Snotlout to watch you.”

Hiccup listened as her footsteps faded across the room and down the hall, then he resumed his steps.

If dancing with a partner was hard, then dancing by himself was a nightmare. Where was he? How big was the room? Did he have enough—

He suddenly crashed into some chairs and fell onto the floor.

“Graceful,” came Snotlout’s voice from the door.

Hiccup flipped him the bird.

“Now now, your majesty, I meant nothing ill by it.” He stooped and picked him off the ground. “Before the fall, you were doing pretty well.”

Hiccup leaned in so he could speak in his ear. “I’m going to end up embarrassing her…”

“Not if I have any say in it.” He left for a moment, and Hiccup could hear the door closing. “Put your pride and awkwardness aside, because I’m about to make you the best dancer in the kingdom!”

—

Friday came, and true to her word, Astrid made sure the coronation for Valka went off without a hitch. It was a lengthy and complicated ceremony, but necessary to solidify her standing as ruler of Berk. Valka had been coronated before, but after she was pronounced dead, her title and all with it were retired. Thankfully, the council had decided that she was still married to the Tsar, but a symbolic wedding ceremony to renew their vows would take place later in the the summer. As each part of the ceremony unfolded, Astrid made sure to explain in detail what was going on, so Hiccup wouldn’t feel left out. The whole time, he held her hand.

After the ceremony, the ball began. The nobility was introduced coming into the ballroom, each title sounding more and more exuberant.

“Her Majesty Princess Astrid, and her husband, Duke Hiccup of Berk.”

Astrid clung to his arm as she guided him carefully down the stairs. She could hear whispers from below, but tried to ignore them and just smile. Once at the bottom of the stairs, Astrid dragged him over to a corner to sit away from the crowds and prying eyes.

Stoick and Valka were announced, with a roar of cheers, and the ball commenced.

The Tsar and Queen danced first. A singer accompanied them as they waltzed a traditional dance.

_I’ll swim and sail on savage seas…_

Astrid couldn’t help but get misty eyed at the sight. Stoick looked upon his wife with such adoration and joy, it was palpable. Likewise, Valka was beaming like the sun.

A nearby conversation reached her ears. “They look so lovely together, I always liked the queen.”

“I did too, pity that she had to hide. Wasn’t she pregnant when she left?”

“Oh yes, I did hear about that. No one has mentioned the whereabouts of the Prince. I wonder what could have happened.”

“I heard she was living in the narrows.”

“No! Oh that poor woman!” The speaker lifted a fan and hid her mouth behind it. “Did you see the Princess and her husband?”

“Oh, he looks awful! I’ve always thought he was kind of creepy, but he looks…I can’t find the words.”

“Barely hanging on to life?”

“If you could call him living in the first place. But, the Princess has become such a better person since he came. He may look frightening, but he’s such a sweetheart.”

“I spoke with him once, at a dinner. He said my dress was, ‘so pretty and sparkly.’ It made me giggle.”

“I wish my husband noticed when I had on a nice dress…”

Astrid rubbed Hiccup’s hand in hers. She had mixed feelings about the conversation, and just hoped he couldn’t hear them.

The dance between the Tsar and Queen ended, and they bowed to each other. A roaring applause went up through the room.

“I guess that’s our cue.” Said Astrid, tugging Hiccup along.

Once they emerged from their hiding place, the gossiping women blushed and hid their faces behind fans.

They made their way to the center of the room. Hiccup placed a hand at her waist and she on his shoulder.

“Ready?” She asked.

He nodded once, determined.

The music started, the singer accompanying with heart wrenching words.

_Your eyes tell me stories_

_That I can understand_

_I have seen the future_

_Written in your hand_

He was dancing much better than he had a few days ago. He stepped with purpose, avoiding her feet and skirts.

_Now I surrender_

_I am falling down_

_Hoping you will catch me_

_Before I hit the ground_

They took turns leading. He lead most of it, guiding her around in swooping circles around the room, but she took over for short moments when they travelled too far.

_You_

_are all I see_

_For you_

_I am falling free_

Slight cringes crept upon on his face as the waltz went on. His body jerked ever so slightly, not cooperating with his movements.

_I have walked the steepest mountains,_

_sailed the seven seas_

_I have been looking for you_

_in every part of me_

In a daring move, Hiccup moved his hand that was resting on her hip and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her closer. He went from simply holding her other hand to intertwining her fingers with his. In turn, she skirted her hand up from his shoulder to rest against his neck.

_Now I surrender_

_I am falling down_

_Hoping you will catch me_

_Before I hit the ground_

He picked up the pace as the song escalated. Astrid’s skirt swept across the floor like flower petals. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You look beautiful.”

“You can’t see me,” She returned.

“But you’re always beautiful. So why wouldn’t you be today?”

_You_

_Are all I see_

His body jerked harder, stopping for seconds at a time, throwing off the tempo. But he refused to stop.

_For you_

_I am falling free_

“Hiccup, it’s alright.”

He just held her tighter, his face scrunching up in pain.

_You,_

_My destiny_

The music slowed down, and the words came so much softer. Hiccup stopped moving, his eyes sliding shut as the key came to a halt.

_For you_

_I am falling free_

The audience gave a pleasant applause, as Astrid pulled away from him. She sighed softly. In her nervousness for the ceremony, she forgot to make sure he was wound all the way up for the dance. It wasn’t a secret that he was a wind up doll, so she quickly wound up the key as much as she could. Though, when she let go, he didn’t start up.

Her heart hammering, she turned the key another half turn, which took effort, and it snapped in half in her hand.

“No!”

The rest of the key whirled around, making a horrible, loud, grinding sound. Hiccup convulsed suddenly and then relaxed. His arms fell to his sides.

“Hiccup!” Astrid cried, coming around and shaking him. “Hiccup!!”

Snotlout was at the ready and took her shoulders firmly. “Astrid, calm down, don’t panic the guests…”

She shoved him away from her and ran to her husband, throwing her arms around him. “Hiccup! Please! Open your eyes!” She continued to shake him and pat his face.

“Oh honey,” Valka said, approaching her carefully. Her motherly hand caressed her back, and she spoke softly. “It’ll be okay…” But heavy sorrow was in her voice.

“It’s not okay!” Astrid protested. “This isn’t fair! He was supposed to be fixed! He was supposed to last longer! He was supposed to—“ She sobbed loudly, and pounded her fist on his chest in anguish. “Hiccup, Henry, whatever your name is…you did this to me. You brought me back, you healed me, and now I’m broken again.”

Stoick was at her other side, not trying to pull her away, but gently petting her hair as an act of solidarity.

“You were everything I needed.” She leaned down until her ear rested against his chest. She fought back more tears as her face became hot. “How dare you make me cry,” she whispered, “how dare you leave me alone.” She choked, her tears falling onto his shirt. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I love you. I love you so much.”  

She kissed him. Like everything she did, it was bold and brash and completely unrestrained. She kissed him with fire and fury, and every ounce of passion in her body. When she pulled away, she crumpled, weeping into his chest.

There was no ticking.

No grinding.

Nothing.

Silence.

But then…

 

Ba-thump

 

Ba-thump

 

Ba-thump

 

A heartbeat.

Quiet, soft, and weak, but it was there.

“Everyone hush!” She cried, pressing her ear to his chest.

“What is it?” Asked Stoick, in a whisper.

“His heart…it’s beating.”

Suddenly, a shutter and a gasp came from him.

Hiccup blinked his eyes, his vision blurry. All manner of glittery gold flickered around him. Was he dead?

“Hiccup?” He heard his name.

“Astrid…?” He spoke back. His voice was returning, though it was still soft.

“How…?” Asked Stoick, seeing the key still.

Slowly, Hiccup’s vision cleared and he saw his wife. Tears streaked her face, her eyes red. He gasped a little at the sight. “I…I’m breathing…”

Astrid managed a little laugh, “I’m not.”

He gently cupped the side of her face. “Am I…alive? Truly?”

She nodded, wordless.

With this confirmation, Stoick swept them both into a hug, kissing both of their cheeks. Then he declared over the hall in a warm, booming voice. “My son! My son’s alive!”

The crowd broke out into gasps and whispers, but they didn’t notice.

Hiccup’s hand traced over her features, as he continued to smile at her. “I missed your face…”

“I missed your voice…”

“Did you mean it? Do you love me?”

“How could I not?” She tugged the collar of his jacket and pulled him into a kiss. One that trumped all others, one that was warm and sure, that held love and passion, but managed to be soft and tender. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too…” He whispered before kissing her again and again.

There would be questions. There would be meetings and explanations. There would be theories and musings. Some may call it a miracle, others a coincidence.

But Astrid didn’t care about the _how_ and the _why_ , only that he was _here_. That his heart was beating and his skin was warm. She finally had what she wanted, a person to love her for how she was. But even then, that didn’t feel like her greatest desire anymore.

Now, she just liked the smile on his face when she kissed him and declared her love over and over again.

—

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks like 12 is my magic number for chapters.
> 
> I’d like to thank everyone for their nice comments and follows. This story came out super quick because most of it was written before, so the next one might be a little bit still.
> 
> I have a goal of 1,000,000 words to reach this year, so I’ll be back soon.
> 
> Be sure to follow me on Tumblr. And one more thing: what was your favorite part?? 


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